Organized Crime
by Chris Fitzsimmons
Summary: Bess thinks the Mafia is trying to kill her. Is she right? Can the Hardy Boys save her?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you all for being so patient with me. I have been really busy working two jobs so I have not had a lot of energy for writing. But I have finally finished the next story in my series. I hope you will all enjoy it! Please leave plenty of reviews. I am posting the first two chapters right away and then I will post more chapters as the reviews start rolling in.**

**With that, here's **_**Organized Crime!**_

"Nice place," Joe complimented Frank as they walked through the house that Frank and Nancy had just bought. "Nice and big."

"Thanks," Frank replied. "We like it."

"How many square feet does it have?" Joe asked.

"About four thousand," Frank told him.

"Did I say big?" Joe whistled. "I meant huge!"

"Well, combine what Nancy and I make with the fact that it was a foreclosure, and we can easily afford to make the payments," Frank told him.

"And the payments on that brand new Challenger I saw in the driveway," Joe teased him.

"But of course," Frank replied. "Since you wanted to keep the GTO, it was the least I could do."

"Are you going to turn Phil loose on your new car?" Joe asked him.

"You'd better believe it," Frank answered. Frank and Joe's friend, Phil Cohen, was a genius with every kind of electronics, and he sometimes did freelance work for the Network, the top secret government agency that both Joe and Frank worked for. In this capacity, Frank had hired him to install numerous "improvements" on the brothers' GTO and now on his new Dodge Challenger.

"Is that the R/T model?" Joe continued questioning him as they ended their tour of the house.

"Yep. With that Hemi engine it can really move," Frank said proudly.

Just then, the brothers were startled by the front door of the empty house slamming open. "There you are!" the beautiful blonde exclaimed, breathing heavily. "You guys have got to help me!"

"Okay," Frank said, "just calm down, Bess. Of course we'll help you. What's wrong?"

Bess Marvin was a longtime friend of Frank's wife, Nancy Drew-Hardy. She recently had taken a job as a model in Chicago, where Frank and Joe and their new brides lived. She took a deep breath and said, "I think the Mafia is after me! They are trying to kill me!"

"Are you sure?" Joe asked skeptically.

"Don't you look at me like that, Joseph Hardy," the young lady snapped at him. "I know what I'm talking about."

"We believe you," Frank broke in smoothly. "Now, why don't you start from the beginning, and tell us everything?"

"Okay," Bess said as she took another deep breath. "Could we sit down? This could take awhile."

"Well," Frank grimaced as he looked around, "we don't have any furniture in here yet, but I guess we could sit on the stairs."

"Sounds good," Bess agreed as she plopped down on the magnificent staircase.

Once they were settled, Frank once again said, "Okay, now tell us the whole story."

"As you know," Bess began, "several months ago I started working for this new modeling agency in downtown Chicago."

"What's the name again?" Joe asked.

"Perfect Image," Bess replied. Frank scribbled the name on his ever present notepad. "Anyway," she continued, "everything has been going great until recently."

"What happened?" Frank asked.

"I stayed late one night last week," she replied. "I took an extra long shower. Just as I was getting out of the shower, I heard a scream."

"Male or female?"

"I think female, but I could be wrong," she said. "Of course, I was scared out of my wits. I quickly got dressed and was leaving the locker room when I practically ran over my boss."

"What's his name?"

"Tony Fanelli," Bess replied. "He was acting really weird and then he asked me why I was still there when I should be at home. I told him why and then he asked me if I had heard anything. I was still scared, so I told him that I hadn't. He acted like he was still suspicious, but he told me to go home. I got out of there as quickly as possible." She paused and took another deep breath.

"So because of that you think he's trying to kill you?" Joe asked, his disbelief evident.

Bess fixed him with another scathing look. "I wasn't finished," she snapped.

"Excuse me, Miss Marvin," Joe smirked. "Please continue."

Bess glared at him but she went on. "The next day I was still kind of freaked, so I mentioned it to my friend, Jamie."

"Does Jamie have a last name?" Frank asked.

"Lindert. Jamie Lindert. Anyway, Jamie got this scared look on her face and told me that I was better off ignoring the strange things that happen around Perfect Image. I asked her if she had seen other strange things, and she clammed up. The day after that, she showed up to work with bruises all over her body and she refused to talk to me at all."

"Where were the bruises located?"

"They were on her stomach and upper legs, basically places that you don't see when she is dressed. I only noticed them because I saw her changing in the locker room."

"It sounds to me like she was worked over by a professional," Frank said grimly.

"Yeah," Joe said, "and someone that had something to lose if she had visible bruises-Tony Fanelli."

"Tony Fanelli," Frank agreed, his expression filled with anger. If there was one thing that Frank hated more than anything, it was a criminal that victimized women.

"There's more," Bess said. "Yesterday afternoon, Tony came up to me and told me that I had been requested for a special shoot. He gave me an address and told me to be there at six last evening. When I got there, this creepy looking dude opened the door. He told me that he was expecting me and to come in. I almost stepped in the door when I glanced past him. What I saw made me turn around and run."

"What was it?" Joe asked.

"There were three guys in lab coats," Bess told them. "They were standing in a room filled with torture equipment!"


	2. Chapter 2

"What kind of torture equipment?" Frank wanted to know.

"I don't know exactly," she said. "I just recognized it as some of the stuff I've seen in movies. And what's worse is that it looked like there was blood on it! I drove straight home and locked myself in. There were guys in suits knocking on my door all night long. This morning, when it looked like the coast was clear, I ran out to my car and drove over here as quickly as I could."

"What makes you think they were Mafia?" Joe asked, his skepticism gone.

"I don't know," Bess said. "It was just the impression I got."

"'Tony Fanelli' does sound like a Mafia name," Joe grinned.

"It also sounds really familiar," Frank said thoughtfully. After a moment more of thought, he pulled out his PDA and punched in Fanelli's name. After a few moments of searching, a file scrolled on the screen. "Now I remember!" he exclaimed. "There was an article in the paper a few months ago about how Tony Fanelli had been arrested on suspicion of ties to organized crime. The charges were dropped when the witness disappeared."

"Sounds like typical Mafia operations to me," Joe replied.

"I don't want to disappear!" Bess wailed.

"Don't worry," Frank assured her. "We won't let anything happen to you."

"Yeah," Joe agreed, "then we'd hear it from Nancy for sure!" This was followed by, "Ouch! Why is everybody always hitting me?" as he rubbed the spot on his arm where Bess had slugged him.

"It's because you deserve it," Frank replied as he dialed a number on his cell phone. "Good morning, Faith," Frank said when Agent Luck answered the phone.

"Good morning, sir," Frank's right hand agent replied.

"I need everything there is to know about one Tony Fanelli," he told her. "Just e-mail the file to my phone."

"Yes, sir," Agent Luck said as she hung up.

"Don't you think that you're going a little overboard?" Joe asked. "This looks like an open and shut case to me. Tony worked over Jamie to find out if Bess had told her anything. When she told him, he set Bess up to 'disappear.' Case closed!"

"And how do you explain the scream that Bess heard, oh Wise Detective?" Frank shot back.

"Ummmm," Joe's face turned red. "That one's a little harder."

Frank rolled his eyes and turned back to Bess. "Do you still have the address that Fanelli sent you to?"

"Of course," Bess told him. She rummaged in her purse for a moment and handed a slip of paper to him.

Frank typed the address into his PDA and a moment later he was looking at the county records. "It looks like that building used to be an office building, but it's been closed for a few months." He scrolled down on the screen. "It's owned by Hampton Holdings." He clicked on a link. "What do we have here?" he murmured, half to himself.

"What is it?" Joe asked.

"Hampton Holdings is a shell company that traces back to Angelina Scinelli," Frank replied.

"Who's that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Frank said. He typed her name into the PDA. "Wow," he said, "Miss Scinelli has been a busy girl. According to this she's being investigated by the FBI for ties to organized crime. They believe she is the head of the Scinelli crime family."

"Well, that seems kind of obvious to me," Joe replied. "Why haven't they arrested her yet?"

"Apparently she doesn't do the dirty work herself, so they haven't been able to get anything on her."

"Well," Joe said, speaking to Bess, "Good news, Bess."

"What's that?"

"You weren't imagining things," he said with a grin. He quickly dodged another blow that Bess aimed at his arm. "Ha! I'm too quick for you!" Then, "Ouch!" as Frank smacked him on the back of the head.

"You were saying?" Frank said with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Joe said with a grimace. "What's our plan?" Joe asked.

"Easy," Frank said, "we take down the Scinelli crime family."

"So I figured," Joe replied, "the question is how. And what are we going to do with Bess while we do?"

"Well," Frank told them, "I don't see any reason why she can't stay here. We just bought this place, so nobody should know where it is. We can get some furniture in here and Bess should be completely safe."

"Are you sure?" Bess asked doubtfully.

"Absolutely," Frank assured her. "Now why don't you have Joe take you back to your place so that you can get some things."

"Okay," the model agreed somewhat hesitantly.

"And, Joe," Frank cautioned, "I don't need to tell you how important it is that you aren't followed."

"Right," Joe agreed. "In that case, you might want to get her car out of the driveway before someone notices it."

"Good thinking," Frank said. "Give me your keys, Bess." As she handed him her car keys, Frank added, "I'll try to think up a plan of attack while you two are gone."

"Sounds good," Joe agreed as he and Bess headed out. They climbed into Joe's customized 1970 GTO Judge and a moment later they roared away from the house.

Frank's brain was working in high gear as he pulled Bess' car into his spacious four car garage. He closed the overhead door and pulled out his cell phone as he walked through the door connecting the garage to the house's kitchen. He quickly dialed.

"Yes, sir?" Agent Luck answered.

"I need you to keep this to yourself," Frank told her, "but I need you to do something for me."

"Of course," she replied.

"I need you to get a bedroom set, some dishes, and some food and deliver it to my new house," Frank instructed. "Use one of the Network vans and pull straight into the garage when you arrive. Also, use my personal expense account; I'll reimburse it later."

"Anything in particular that you want?" she asked.

"Use your best judgment," Frank replied. "Just let me know when you are almost here."

"Affirmative, sir," Faith Luck said before ending the call.

Frank tucked the phone back into his pocket and sat back down on the stairs. Now that Bess' accommodations were taken care of, he could worry about what to do next.

After about thirty minutes of driving, Joe pulled his car into the parking lot outside of Bess' apartment. He studied the area carefully before shutting off his engine. "We're being watched," he informed Bess.

"What? Where?" she asked, starting to jerk her head around.

Joe laid his hand on her arm. "Don't look," he warned. "We don't want to let them know that we're onto them." He motioned to her mirror. "They're in a blue minivan at the other end of the lot," he told her.

Bess carefully checked the mirror. "I see them," she agreed.

"Do you recognize them?" Joe wanted to know.

"They look kind of familiar," Bess said, "but I'm not positive." She sighed. "I'm a lousy witness."

"Now, now," Joe said, "that can't be true." He grinned, "Otherwise they wouldn't be trying to kill you."

Bess glared at him. "You can be replaced," she threatened.

"Yeah, yeah," Joe said, "I've heard that before." His expression became serious. "Now here's the plan. We are going to walk into your apartment like nothing is wrong. I'll stand guard while you pack. Then we'll walk back out and leave. Piece of cake."

"What if they try to stop us?" Bess asked nervously.

"They'll have to get through me first," Joe said as he checked the load in the gun he was wearing in a shoulder holster. The click of the action sounded ominous in the closed car as he chambered a round. "Let's go," he said as he replaced the gun in his shoulder holster.

The two young people hopped out of the car. Joe pretended to laugh at something that Bess had said as they walked casually towards the apartment building. Within moments they were in the apartment with the door locked behind them.

"See?" Joe said with a smile. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Bess let out a sigh of relief. "No, I guess it wasn't," she agreed.

"Now get to your packing," Joe ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Bess replied with a mock salute.

"And try to keep it light," Joe teased.

Bess rolled her eyes and started walking towards her bedroom. She was stopped by a firm knock on the door. She glanced fearfully at Joe. He silently motioned for her to look through the peephole. She looked at the two men in suits that stood outside. "I think they're the two men from the minivan," she whispered to Joe.

Joe glanced through the peephole. "You're right," he whispered back. "You go pack; I'll take care of this."

Bess quickly retreated to her room. Joe pulled out his gun and released the safety. He held the gun behind his back as he opened the apartment door a crack.

"May I help you gentlemen?" Joe asked the two men in suits.

One of the men held up a badge. "I'm Detective James and this is Detective Monroe. We are with the Chicago Police Department Homicide Unit." He held up a sheet of paper. "We have a warrant for the arrest of Miss Bess Marvin!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**To everybody who has left a review: Thank you.**

**To everybody who has not: Shame on you! :-P**

**That being said, enjoy the new chapters!**

"What are the charges?" Joe asked calmly.

"Miss Marvin is wanted for the murder of Miss Tammy Jackson," Detective Monroe told him.

Joe mentally filed the name before replying. "I'm sorry, Detectives, but Miss Marvin is currently in protective custody. I cannot release her to you."

The detectives' eyes grew hard. "And you are?" Detective James asked coldly.

"Oh, excuse me," Joe said. He reached into his pocket and flipped out a badge. "I'm Agent Joe Hardy, NSA."

The detectives examined the badge with astonishment. "Surely our homicide trumps whatever reason you have for holding Miss Marvin," Detective Monroe protested.

"That's not for me to say," Joe replied with a grin. "It's a matter of national security. If you have a problem, you can take it up with my superiors." With that he shut the door and locked it. Joe grinned to himself as he peered through the peephole at the two detectives still standing speechless outside the door. After a moment of stunned silence, the two policemen hurried down the hallway, already pulling out their cell phones to call their boss. Joe put his gun away and pulled out his notebook. He quickly scribbled down the two detectives' names and the name of the murder victim and then put the notebook back in his pocket.

"Are they gone?" Bess asked quietly as she stuck her head out of her bedroom door.

"They sure are," Joe informed her.

"What did they want?" she wanted to know.

"Well," Joe said with a grin, "apparently you are wanted for murder."

"What!" Bess shrieked. "What are you talking about?"

Joe quickly told her everything that the detectives had said.

"This doesn't make any sense," Bess said when he had finished. "Why would they think that I had killed somebody?"

"Does the name 'Tammy Jackson' mean anything to you?" Joe asked her.

Bess sank onto her couch. "Yes," she replied weakly, "she was a model at Perfect Image."

"Not anymore," Joe said grimly. "Are you ready to go? We need to tell Frank about this right away. Something fishy is definitely going on at Perfect Image"

"Yes," Bess replied faintly. "I'll get my bag." She walked to her room and returned a moment later with a large suitcase.

Joe took the luggage from her and opened the apartment door. As they walked to the car, he carried the suitcase in his left hand so that his right was free to draw his gun if he needed to. They reached the car without mishap and Joe quickly loaded the suitcase into the trunk of the flashy sports car. He glanced carefully around as he opened the passenger door for Bess. She climbed in and seconds later Joe was seated in the driver's seat. He started the engine and left rubber trails as they sped away from Bess' apartment.

"Shouldn't we check for bugs or something?" Bess asked after a few minutes of driving. "We don't know if someone bugged the car while we were parked there."

"I'm pretty sure they did," Joe told her. He grinned, "Lucky for us that this car has a built in bug killer. Whatever tracking devices they planted were dead about two seconds after I started the engine."

Bess was impressed. "Very nice," she said.

Joe grinned again as he drove the rest of the way to Frank's new house. As he pulled into the driveway, he spotted a black cargo van pulling into the garage. "There's Agent Luck," he told Bess. "I'll bet Frank had her bring over some stuff for you." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Frank's number. When Frank answered, he said, "Do you have some room left for us in that garage? This car is a bit of a hot item right now."

"Sure thing," Frank said. A moment later another garage door opened and Joe pulled into the empty space. The door closed behind them and the house once again looked uninhabited.

"So what happened?" Frank wanted to know as soon as Joe and Bess entered the house.

Joe quickly explained the events of the day to Frank and Agent Luck.

"That throws a new light on the situation," Frank mused as he considered what Joe had told him. "But I think I can make it work to our advantage."

"So you have a plan?" Bess asked.

"That I do," Frank agreed. "But rather than explain it several times to everybody involved, I'm going to set up a meeting tonight." He glanced at his watch. "Okay," he told them, "it's 12:30 now. Nancy doesn't get off work until 5:00 so we can't have the meeting until after then. Joe, you and I will unload the stuff that Faith brought over and then we can have lunch. Faith, when you get back to the office, I want you to find out everything there is to know about the Tammy Jackson case. I'll have Nancy find out what she can about Detectives James and Monroe. Faith, I also want you to setup a video conference for 6:00 this evening. I think that would be better than having a bunch of cars parked out front announcing our presence."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Who do you want at the conference?"

"I want you, Brandi, Agent Jameson, and Agent Jacobs to be there," Frank told her. "Use my office; I don't want word of this to get out." Agent Luck nodded her agreement. "Also, I will need you to bring over the portable command center sometime before the conference."

"I took the liberty of bringing that with me this time," Agent Luck told him. "I suspected you might need it."

Frank beamed. "Good work! In the meantime, Joe and I will get everything set up for Bess here. Any questions?"

"What about George?" Bess asked. "She'll want to know what's going on."

"Good point," Frank said thoughtfully. After a moment of thought he said, "I'll have Nancy bring her over here when she comes, that way we won't have a car out front and we won't have to worry about someone hacking her feed from her home or office. She doesn't have as secure of a connection as we do. Also, she doesn't have the proper clearance to know the location of our office."

"Sounds good," Bess agreed.

Frank quickly called Nancy and filled her in on what was happening and then the two brothers set about unloading the van full of stuff that Agent Luck had delivered.

"Frank," Joe groaned as they struggled with a queen-sized mattress, "when are you going to learn that you never let a girl do any shopping that you have to carry? They always buy the heaviest stuff imaginable!"

"Just be glad I didn't buy the king-size," Faith said sweetly as she held the door for them.

Joe glared at her as they wrestled the mattress through the door. "Frank, why did you have to hire her?" he pretended to be angry with his brother. "Couldn't you have hired someone with less of a mean streak?"

"Shut up, Joe," Frank said mildly as they carried the bed up the stairs. "Just be glad that I didn't have Nancy do the shopping."

Joe shuddered at the thought. "Bless you," he said earnestly. They deposited the bed in the guest room where Bess would be staying.

Half an hour later, the van was completely unloaded and Bess and Faith were making sandwiches in the house's large kitchen. When they had finished eating, Faith left and Frank and Joe started to put together the bedroom set that she had bought for Bess to use. Bess started putting away the dishes and the rest of the groceries.

When the bedroom was finished, Joe and Frank stood to admire their handiwork. "I will say this," Joe admitted, "Faith does have good taste. This is a nice set." He glared at Frank. "If you tell her I said that, I will end you," he threatened.

Frank put up his hands in mock surrender. "My lips are sealed," he assured his brother. "Now let's get that command center set up before our conference." The two brothers headed for the living room. Frank opened the large plastic case that housed the portable command center. The brothers set up a long folding table that Agent Luck had brought to go with the equipment.

Two hours later the brothers stood back to look at the setup. "Think it will work?" Joe asked as he surveyed the setup. The table was now covered with computers, monitors, printers, phones, cameras, and other various electronic devices. Computer cables ran everywhere.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Frank replied. He started flicking switches on the various pieces of equipment. The room began to hum as the equipment came to life. The computer screens came to life and seconds later a prompt showed. Frank typed furiously on the keyboard. The screen started scrolling through various diagnostic screens. Moments later a notification read, "Diagnostic complete. Secure connection established."

"All right!" Joe crowed. "It works!"

"Of course it does," Frank said calmly. "I'm just awesome like that."

"Riiiiiight," Joe replied sarcastically. He looked at his watch. "And not any too soon either," he said. "It's 5:30 already."

"Nancy and George should be here soon," Frank told him. Just then there was a honk in the driveway. Frank peeked out the window and saw Nancy's Camaro in the driveway. "Speak of the devils," Frank grinned as he pressed a button on the control panel on the wall. A garage door opened up and Nancy drove into the last remaining empty space in the garage.

Moments later, Nancy and George entered the living room. "It feels good to be home!" Nancy exclaimed as she kicked off her shoes and sunk her toes into the luxurious carpet. She shrugged off her jacket and threw it in a corner.

"Long day?" Frank asked as he gave her a quick kiss.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Nancy agreed. She looked at the extensive computer setup. "Impressive," she said.

"I agree," George said as she inspected the equipment. "And all top of the line too."

"Of course," Joe said. "Nothing but the best for us."

Nancy rolled her eyes and shook her head at her brother-in-law. "Just throw your coat anywhere," she told George.

George shrugged out of her Illinois State Patrol uniform coat and it joined Nancy's in the corner. She unbuckled her gun belt and hung it on the stair railing in the front entryway. "Where's Bess?" she asked as she rejoined them in the living room.

"I think I heard her going upstairs a little while ago," Joe said. "Maybe she went to take a nap."

"I'll go find her," George told them. "I'm sure she won't want to miss this meeting." She hurried away.

Nancy told the brothers about the events of her day as they waited for the cousins. A short time later, Bess and George entered the living room. Bess was toweling her hair dry. "I wanted to take a bath," she told them, explaining her absence.

"Well," Nancy said, looking at her watch, "it's almost six. Let's get this party started."

Frank started entering commands into the computer setup and a moment later the screens changed to show Brandi, Eric, Sage, and Faith surrounding the conference table in Frank's office at the local Network headquarters. The waiting time was over.


	4. Chapter 4

"How's it going, Boss?" Eric Jacobs asked as the group gathered in the Hardy living room appeared on the large screen in Frank's office.

"I've been better," Frank replied dryly. "Like when someone isn't trying to kill one of my friends."

"Not that we would know what that's like," Joe deadpanned. "That seems to be a regular occurrence."

"True," Frank agreed. He addressed the group in his office, "Faith briefed you on what we know so far?" They nodded. "Good," he said. "That will save time." He consulted his notes. "Let's start with Nancy. What did you find out about our two detective friends?"

Nancy opened her briefcase and pulled out several files. "It would appear that these particular detectives may be doing some moonlighting."

"Oh?" Joe raised his eyebrows.

"For the Scinelli crime family," Nancy answered. "Nothing can be proved yet, but they have been being investigated by IAB for the past few months for possible ties to the mob."

"Do they have any evidence at all?" Frank wanted to know.

Nancy consulted her files. "They had the testimony of a few low-level operatives in the Scinelli mob, but they 'overdosed' while in police custody."

"Big surprise there," Sage said dryly.

"Anything else, Nan?" Frank asked.

"Nope," she said, "that's it."

"Okay, Faith," Frank said, "what did you find out about the Jackson case?"

Faith typed on the computer in Frank's office and documents started showing up on the screens. "Tammy Caitlin Jackson," she began, "was found dead in her apartment yesterday. She had been tortured extensively before she finally died." Crime scene photos flashed on the screen. Tammy had once been a beautiful young lady, but her skin was now covered by cigarette burns and small cuts. The gathered group winced as the pictures of the model continued. Once they were finished, Faith continued, "The police believe that she was tortured and killed somewhere else and then dumped back in her apartment."

"Why would someone do that?" Brandi asked.

"I have a theory about that," Frank replied, "but let's wait until Faith is done."

"The police found several blonde hairs on the body," Faith told them. "DNA matched them to one Bess Marvin." Bess gave a small cry of disbelief as Faith continued her recital. "A witness claims that he saw Bess carrying what looked like a rolled up rug into the apartment at about 4:00 yesterday morning. Upon questioning, he agreed that it was probably Miss Jackson's body. Other witnesses claim that they saw Bess arguing with the deceased earlier this week. They say that Bess said, 'So help me, Tammy, I will kill you if it's the last thing I do.'" She examined her files once more. "That's about it," she finished.

"That's all a lie!" Bess exclaimed angrily. "I don't even know where Tammy lived, let alone threaten to kill her!"

"We know," George said soothingly.

"You are obviously being framed," Nancy agreed. "The question is why?"

"When did the autopsy say Tammy died?" Frank asked Faith.

She consulted her notes. "She died four days ago."

"Who discovered the body?"

"That would be one Tony Fanelli," Faith answered. "He claims he became concerned when Tammy didn't show up for work and he went looking for her."

"Here's what I think happened," Frank told them. "For some reason, Tony Fanelli was torturing Tammy Jackson at the Perfect Image studio after hours. Bess threw a monkey wrench in the works when she stayed late and heard Tammy screaming. Tony then beat that information out of Jamie Lindert and then sent Bess to the fake photo shoot where she was to be tortured to find out what she knew. Bess messed up his plans again when she ran." The gathered group listened intently.

"I think I know where you're going with this," Nancy exclaimed. "Four days ago was the day after Bess heard the scream, wasn't it?" Frank nodded with a twinkle in his eye. "Okay," Nancy continued, "after Bess escaped, Fanelli dumped Tammy's body back in her apartment and framed Bess for her murder."

"And he got people to give false witness reports," Joe finished up.

"Exactly," Frank agreed. "In the end, Bess ends up looking guilty as sin, so there's no way anyone would ever believe her if she fingered Fanelli for the crime."

"But why was he torturing Tammy?" Sage asked.

"That's the million dollar question," Frank said. "I think that's the key to the whole case. If we can find out what he wanted from Tammy, we can blow this whole thing wide open. Also, until we can prove that Fanelli killed Tammy, the police are still going to want Bess."

"It doesn't help that the two homicide detectives assigned to the case are probably on Fanelli's payroll," Eric said.

"I'm sure that's no coincidence," Frank chuckled.

"So what's the plan?" Brandi asked. "How are we going to bring down the Scinellis and clear Bess?"

Frank gave an evil grin. "I'm glad you asked," he replied.

"I don't like the sound of that," Brandi said cautiously.

"Oh, don't worry," Frank said. "It will be painless, mostly."


	5. Chapter 5

"Here are your assignments," Frank told his assembled task force. "Eric, as soon as we are done here, I want you to take a team and arrest Jamie Lindert. I want to keep her out of the way for the duration of this. Put her in a safe house with a 24 hour guard. Nancy, I want you to keep an eye on IAB's investigation into the detectives. Also, see if you can get close to them, maybe you can get them to recruit you to work for Scinelli. Bess, obviously your assignment is to stay here under wraps until it's safe for you to go out. Joe, George, and I will keep a rotating guard on the house to make sure nothing happens here. Also, when we aren't on guard duty, Joe and I will track down other leads, starting with the location where they were going to torture Bess. I also want to get a look at Tammy's apartment." Frank paused.

"What about Sage, Faith, and me?" Brandi asked suspiciously.

Frank gave his evil grin once more.

"Franklin Dixon Hardy," Brandi said sternly, "I do not like where this is heading."

"But you guys have the best assignment of all!" Frank protested innocently.

"Frank…," Sage warned. "Think very carefully before you say what you are about to say."

"Oh, I have," Frank grinned. "Brandi, Sage, and Faith, it would appear that Perfect Image is short three models."

"I knew it!" Brandi exclaimed. "I knew I wouldn't like where this was heading!"

"Oh no. Absolutely not," Sage refused.

Even the agreeable Faith Luck looked skeptical. "Are you sure, Agent Hardy?" she asked.

"Positive," Frank said firmly. "You three are only ones that can do it. Nancy has her work with the Chicago PD and George has her job with the State Patrol. That leaves only you three. Plus, you are all well suited to the job. We have to get somebody undercover at the modeling agency. Bess, how do they hire models at Perfect Image?"

"They use a staffing agency called Magnificent Models," Bess replied."

Joe snorted. "Are you serious?"

"What are you trying to say, Joseph?" Bess glared at him.

"Nothing at all," Joe backed down.

"Joe," Frank ordered, "you lean on Magnificent Models and get them to hire Brandi, Sage, and Faith. After that, take whoever gets them the job into protective custody. We can't afford to have any leaks. Any more questions?"

"No," Brandi grumbled. The rest of the group echoed her.

"Good," Frank said. "Brandi, Sage, and Faith, I want you over here first thing in the morning so Bess can give you some pointers. Also, Bess, let them know what they should wear. After that you three can go shopping, but I want you working at Perfect Image by tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, there's one bright side to this," Brandi perked up. "New clothes!"

Frank closed the connection and powered down the computer equipment. "Who wants the first watch?" he asked the gathered group.

"Tomorrow's my day off," George told him. "I'll take the night shift, and then I'll catch some sleep tomorrow while one of you is on duty."

"Sounds good," Frank agreed. "Joe can head home for the night and Nancy and I will go to our apartment. We'll see you in the morning." As the three Hardys prepared to leave, Frank said, "I almost forgot!" He handed George a sophisticated looking watch. "If you have any trouble," he told her, "push these two buttons at the same time and a Network strike team will be here in five minutes or less. Otherwise, just call my cell phone."

"Sounds good," George said as she walked them to the door. The three piled into their separate cars and left the garage. Joe headed for the apartment that he shared with his wife, Iola, on the second floor of the Network field office that Frank ran. Frank and Nancy returned to the apartment that Nancy had been living in since before they got married.

As Nancy and Frank walked into the apartment, Frank's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered.

"Hey Boss," Eric Jacobs said. "Mission accomplished. The target is secured."

"Sounds good," Frank replied. "Good night." Frank had just ended the call when the phone rang again. This time it was a number he did not recognize. "Hello?"

"Is this Agent Franklin Hardy?" a voice asked.

"Yes, it is," Frank replied. "May I ask who is calling please?"

"This is Detective Mike James of the Chicago Police Department," the voice identified itself.

Upon hearing this, Frank pressed a button on his phone and the conversation started being recorded. "What can I do for you, Detective?" Frank asked politely.

"You can tell me what in the world is going on here!" the man exclaimed.

"About what specifically?" Frank played dumb.

"About what! About Bess Marvin, that's what!" Detective James yelled. "We went to arrest her this morning and we were stonewalled by one of your agents. All he would tell us was that we should contact his superiors. I want Marvin for this! Have you looked at what she did to Tammy Jackson?"

"Yes, I have," Frank replied calmly. "But I need Miss Marvin to testify in another case."

"What other case?" nervousness crept into James' voice.

"I can't tell you that," Frank told him. "As my agent told you earlier, it's a matter of national security." Frank allowed an edge into his voice. "I suggest you direct your efforts elsewhere, Detective," he said. "You are not going to arrest Miss Marvin anytime soon, so I suggest you either look for other suspects or work on another case."

"But, I…"

"Good night, Detective." Frank ended the call. He grinned at Nancy. "A certain detective is getting very nervous," he told her.

Nancy grinned back. "He's probably beginning to wonder what Scinelli will do to him if she finds out he failed her."

Frank started to reply and then his nose wrinkled. Realization hit him. "Get out!" he yelled. He grabbed Nancy's arm and ran for the door. As they raced down the stairs a thunderous explosion shook the apartment building!


	6. Chapter 6

Frank and Nancy were flung down the last few steps and out the front door of their apartment building by the force of the explosion. Frank managed to pull Nancy farther away from the building and press two buttons on his watch before he passed out.

He awoke a few minutes later to the sound of sirens all around him. He saw firefighters rushing towards the building as paramedics ran towards where he and Nancy lay on the front lawn. "Are you okay?" one of the paramedics asked him as he knelt beside Frank.

Frank winced as he sat up. "I'm fine," he assured the man. "Check my wife."

The man turned to help his partner examine Nancy. "She appears to be fine," the man said. "No obvious signs of trauma."

A few seconds later, Nancy moved her head. "Whas goin on?" she mumbled.

Just then a firefighter ran up to Frank. "Was there anybody else in the building?" he asked Frank.

Frank thought for a second. "I don't believe so," he told him. "Our neighbors are on vacation for the month and it's only a two unit building."

"Well, I guess we can be glad for small favors," the fireman said dryly.

"I guess so," Frank said with a wry grin.

"Do you have any idea what happened here?" the firefighter continued his questioning.

"We had just come home," Frank told him. "My phone rang twice after we got inside so we were still right by the front door. After I hung up the phone, I thought I smelled something weird, and then I realized it was gas. We were lucky that my phone didn't set it off. Anyway, as soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed Nancy and ran out of the apartment. We were almost out of the building when it blew so we were thrown the rest of the way. Then I managed to call you guys before I passed out." _Or rather,_ Frank thought_, my watch called you guys_.

By this time Nancy was sitting up and wincing as she held a hand to her forehead. "Now I guess we'll have to get new furniture after all," she joked weakly.

"Do you know why anyone would want to hurt you?" the fireman asked Frank.

Frank pulled his NSA credentials out of his pocket and handed it to the man. "Take your pick," he said dryly.

The firefighter, who now identified himself as the arson investigator, looked at the badge in astonishment. He handed the badge back to Frank. "How would you like us to proceed, Agent Hardy?" he asked.

"My people can investigate this," Frank said. "In fact, we already have a pretty good idea who did it."

"Anything you would care to share?" the arson investigator asked.

"Sorry," Frank said apologetically. "National security and all that, I'm sure you understand."

"If you say so," the man said uncertainly.

"Here," Frank said, "help me up." The man helped him to his feet. Frank's head spun for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. After several seconds, the dizziness passed and he was fine. "Would you excuse me, Investigator?" he asked. "I need to call this in."

"Certainly," the man walked over to help the other firefighters.

Frank pulled out his cell phone and dialed the field office. He quickly explained what had happened and ordered a forensic team to be mobilized immediately.

Mere minutes later, a Network forensics van screeched to a stop in front of Frank and Nancy's apartment. It was followed closely by Joe in his bright yellow GTO. "Are you okay?" he asked as he ran up to his brother and sister-in-law.

"Just peachy," Frank assured him. "Although I obviously can't say as much for our apartment."

"At least we had good insurance," Nancy added.

"Looks like you'll have to spend the rest of the night at our place," Joe told them. "It's nice and secure and we have plenty of room.

"I sure hope it's secure," Frank quipped. "Otherwise we're in a lot more trouble than I thought." He pulled out his cell phone again. "I'm going to call our insurance agent to report the claim and then we'll head back to HQ and your apartment." He quickly made the call and then went in search of the arson investigator. "Do you need us for anything else?" Frank asked the man once he found him.

"I think we have everything we need," the investigator said. "You guys are free to go."

Frank handed the man one of his business cards. "Call me if you need anything else," he told him. With that, he and Nancy headed towards their cars. They quickly followed Joe back over to the Network headquarters and parked their cars inside the seemingly abandoned warehouse that housed the Network field office that Frank was in charge of. They followed Joe up the stairs to his luxurious apartment.

Iola met them at the door. "Can I get you guys anything?" she asked.

"We're fine," Frank and Nancy assured her. "We just need a shower and bed."

Iola showed them to their room in the large apartment and showed them where the spare towels and toiletries were. Frank and Nancy quickly showered and then crawled into bed. Within minutes, they were deep in an exhausted sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ouch," was the first thing out of Frank's mouth when he awoke the next morning. "My whole body hurts."

Nancy sat up beside him and winced. "Same here," she said. She hopped out of bed and glanced at her dirty clothes lying on the floor. "There is no way I can wear those to work," she told her husband.

"I can probably dig up some extra clothes from the tactical equipment," Frank told her.

"That will work," Nancy said. "I can go shopping on my lunch break."

"I'll be right back," Frank replied. He gingerly crawled out of bed and pulled on his dirty and torn suit pants from the day before. He slowly buttoned on his shirt and the made his way down the stairs to the office below. He unlocked the supply room and found clothes for him and Nancy in the correct size. He was leaving the room when he turned around. "Clothes do little good without shoes to match," he mumbled to himself. He grabbed two pairs of combat boots and started walking back towards the stairs.

Suddenly, Agent Luck appeared beside him. "How are you, sir?" she asked. "I just heard what happened."

Frank jumped at the sound of her voice. "You startled me," he told her with a self-depreciating chuckle. "And I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He held up the clothes. "Our wardrobe got fried so we're stuck with these until we can get to the store." He returned to the room he was sharing with Nancy and gave her the clothes. Ten minutes later, they were both dressed. They joined Joe and Iola in the apartment's spacious kitchen.

"What strikes your fancy?" Joe asked as they appeared. "We have cereal, cereal, and more cereal." He motioned to the boxes on the counter.

"That's a tough choice," Frank joked. "I'll have to think about that for a minute." He grabbed a box of corn flakes. "I guess I'll go with the cereal."

"So does the fact that your apartment got blown up alter our plan of attack at all?" Joe asked Frank as they ate their breakfast.

"Nope," Frank replied. "It just makes me want to get this over with that much faster."

"Do they know for sure what started the fire?" Iola asked.

"Not yet," Frank replied. "After breakfast I'm going to call the forensics team and ask them what they've found. Then Joe and I are going to start on our assignment."

"Sounds good to me," Joe said as he drank his leftover milk directly from his bowl.

Several minutes later, the four Hardys were done with their breakfast. Nancy climbed into her Camaro and left for work.

"So where to first?" Joe asked as the two brothers climbed into Joe's sports car.

"Let's go check out Tammy Jackson's apartment before the scene gets any colder," Frank answered.

"Alright," Joe said as they sped away from the warehouse. About twenty minutes later, he parked the car in the parking lot by Tammy's apartment. The two brothers walked up the stairs to Tammy's third floor apartment. "So they are trying to say that Bess lugged a dead body up all these stairs by herself?" Joe said in disbelief. "I don't see how that's even plausible. I'd even have trouble doing it without being seen."

"Except for by one 'witness,'" Frank put in with a smirk.

"Yeah," Joe replied. "He's probably the guy that helped her carry the body."

Frank laughed. "Probably," he joked. They reached the door to the apartment. It was blocked by crime scene tape and a young uniformed police officer blocked the way.

"May I help you?" the officer asked.

"Yes, Officer Hanson," Frank said, reading the man's name tag. He flipped open his wallet and showed the man his credentials. "I'm Special Agent Frank Hardy and this is Special Agent Joe Hardy of the FBI. We need to take a look at your crime scene."

"I don't know," the officer replied nervously. "I had better check with my superiors."

"That's not necessary," Frank said. He handed Officer Hanson a piece of paper.

"What's this?" the man asked as he looked at the piece of paper.

"It's an order signed by the Police Commissioner of the City of Chicago that grants us full access to the scene," Joe told him. The Gray Man had faxed them the form before they had left the office that morning.

"Well, I guess it's okay," the officer said. He unlocked the door to the apartment and let the brothers inside.

"Thank you," Frank said. "We'll call you if we need you." The officer nodded and left the apartment, closing the door behind him.

"Where do we start?" Joe wanted to know.

"Well," Frank said, consulting the file he carried, "according to the report, the body was over here." He pointed to the living room. They stepped into the room.

"Wow," Joe said. "This place is tiny. She must not have been making a lot at Perfect Image."

"Could be," Frank agreed. "Let's see if we can find anything to tell us why Tony would be torturing her." The two brothers spread out and began to search the small apartment.

After about half an hour of searching, Joe joined Frank who was searching Tammy's bedroom. "Have you found anything?" he asked his older brother. "I'm not finding anything."

"Not yet," Frank answered, "but does that corner of carpet look loose to you?"

"It does," Joe replied as he bent down to tug on the carpet. The carpet easily pulled up. "It looks like this section of floor lifts up," Joe said as he pulled up the piece of wood. "There's a metal box down here," he added as he lifted the box out. He opened the box and browsed through the contents. "Does this look like motive for murder to you?" he asked as he showed Frank the contents.

"Definitely," Frank replied grimly.


	8. Chapter 8

Nestled inside the box was a small book that looked like it was written in code and a velvet bag full of diamonds!

"I'm no jeweler," Joe said, "but I would guess that these diamonds are worth at least several million dollars.

"That would be my guess as well," Frank agreed. "What interests me though is this notebook. What do you think it is?"

Joe leafed through the little book. "I'm not sure," he replied. "This doesn't look like any code I've ever seen."

"And that doesn't look like a woman's hand writing, does it?" Frank asked.

"You're right," Joe said. "I would guess a man wrote this." Almost as an afterthought he added, "I wonder how this handwriting compares to Tony Fanelli's?"

"If I were to hazard a guess," Frank mused, "I would bet that it matches Tony's."

"Let's get this back to headquarters and see if Codes Division can break this," Joe said.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Frank agreed.

As the brothers left the apartment, Officer Hanson asked them, "Did you find anything?"

"As a matter of fact, we did," Frank replied, the metal box impossible to hide.

"Here's a receipt," Joe said, handing the officer a piece of paper.

"Okay," Hanson replied uncertainly. "You guys have a good day."

"Thanks," Joe grinned as they hurried out to their car.

The two young men had only gone three blocks when a black car pulled up behind them. The driver of the car was tailgating them. After a little while, the car rear ended them and then pulled out to pass them.

"Lose them," Frank ordered.

"With pleasure," Joe said with a wicked grin. He stomped on the gas pedal and the powerful engine of the GTO roared as they pulled away from the car that was chasing them.

Frank scribbled down the plate number and make of the Lincoln Town Car that was following them as they began to distance themselves from the car. Their pursuers, realizing that they were beginning to lose the Hardys, also sped up.

"How much do you want to bet that our friend Officer Hanson is on Scinelli's payroll?" Frank said wryly.

"How do you mean?" Joe asked as he whipped the car around a corner.

"Think about it," Frank said. "Fanelli obviously never found what he was looking for but as soon as we leave Tammy's apartment with this box, his men are all over us. That makes our buddy Hanson look pretty guilty."

"Makes sense to me," Joe agreed, slowing down at a cross street. Seeing nobody coming, he accelerated again. He checked his rear view mirror. "Don't tell me they're dumb enough to start shooting at us in broad daylight," Joe said.

"What makes you say that?" Frank asked as he looked back over his shoulder.

"Only that Uzi that the passenger is holding out the window," Joe said dryly.

"Oh, is that all," Frank quipped. "Do you think you can get us somewhere secluded so that they don't hit any innocent bystanders if they start shooting?"

"Already on it," Joe replied as he guided the sports car onto an interstate access ramp. The Town Car began to fall behind as Joe accelerated to over 100 miles per hour, but it quickly began to gain on them as the gangster driving it floored his accelerator.

"What do you think a Town Car is governed at?" Joe asked Frank thoughtfully.

"Well, it depends on whether or not they made any modifications," Frank replied. "But stock I believe they can go about 130 miles per hour."

"Well," Joe said with a wicked grin, "let's see if it's stock." He pressed down harder on the gas pedal and the GTO leapt forward again. The speedometer crept upwards. At 140 miles per hour, Joe eased off of the accelerator. "Are they still there?" Joe asked; his eyes glued to the road.

"Yes they are," Frank said, "and gaining."

"So not stock," Joe concluded.

"That would be my guess," Frank agreed.

"I'm going to slow down then," Joe said as he tapped the brake. "The traffic is getting thinner out here."

"Have you ever noticed that when we are driving fast by ourselves, the cops are all over us," Frank asked, "but if someone is chasing us, they're nowhere to be seen?"

Joe thought about that for a moment. "I never thought about it like that," he answered, "but that sounds about right. You could always call up George and have her sic the Highway Patrol on them," he suggested.

"Why bother?" Frank grinned. "We can take care of them ourselves."

"My thoughts exactly," Joe agreed. "Speaking of George, why don't we see if that trick you pulled to escape her works against bad guys in Town Cars?"

"I'm game if you are," Frank replied as he tested to make sure his seat belt was tight.

"Okay," Joe warned, "hang on." He yanked up on the emergency brake handle and his tires squealed as the car drifted through a police turn around spot in the median. Within seconds they were heading back the other way on the opposite side of the interstate. "Woo hoo!" he yelled as the Lincoln holding the gangsters sped past the turn around.

"Let's see if we can find a place where we can ambush them when they come back," Frank said.

"You read my mind," Joe said as he searched the side of the highway looking for a suitable place.

"Take this exit," Frank said a minute later. "There are trees lining the on ramp, so they won't see us until they pass it."

"Sounds good," Joe said as he whipped the sports car towards the exit. He drove down the exit and then crossed over to the ramp to reenter the interstate. When they had almost reached the highway, Joe pulled over to the shoulder to wait for the gangsters to pass. They did not have long to wait.

Two minutes later, the Lincoln passed them, rocketing down the highway. Joe floored the gas pedal and they shot onto the highway behind the bad guys. Joe maneuvered the car right up behind the gangsters' vehicle and then flipped a button on the dash. A sturdy push bumper flipped out in front of the car. Joe pushed down harder on the accelerator and the GTO leapt forward and smashed into the back of the Town Car.

The gangsters had been so intent on searching for the Hardys in front of them that they had not even noticed that their quarry was right behind them. The blow from behind stunned the crooks so much that the driver lost control of the car. The Lincoln spun into the ditch.

Unfortunately, at the same moment that Joe had rammed the Town Car, he was passing over a slick spot in the road. The GTO also spun out of control. The brothers' eyes widened in horror. They were heading straight for the wrecked Lincoln!


	9. Chapter 9

Joe once again jerked up on the hand brake and tapped the accelerator. With the tires complaining in the form of a loud squeal, the GTO swerved away from the Lincoln with mere inches to spare. Joe let out a relieved sigh and brought the sports car to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

The two brothers jumped out of the car with their guns drawn. They advanced on the Lincoln carefully. Joe stepped up to the driver's side and Frank walked around to the passenger side of the wrecked car.

"Show me your hands!" Frank ordered as they advanced on the wrecked car. There was no reply to his order. The Hardys reached the front windows of the car and tried to see into the car.

"I can't see anything, can you?" Frank asked Joe.

"Nothing," Joe agreed. "This tint is too dark."

"Alright then," Frank said, "on the count of three. One. Two. Three." On "three" the brothers ripped open the two front doors of the car and aimed their guns at the occupants. The two men in the front seat of the luxury car remained motionless. Frank lowered his gun and put his fingers to the passenger's neck to feel for a pulse. "He's still alive," he told Joe.

"This one too," Joe said, having mirrored Frank's actions. He pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance.

"Let's see if these two brought anything that will help us out," Frank suggested as they waited for the ambulance. He began searching the pockets of the man in the passenger seat. "I've got a wallet," he said after a minute.

"Anything interesting?" Joe asked as he searched the driver.

"Lots of cash," Frank answered, "and an Illinois driver's license for one Rocco Balistreri. Other than that, nothing. Well, that and this deadly little toy." He held up the Uzi sub machine gun that Rocco had been preparing to shoot at them. "What about him?"

"Beretta M-9 in a shoulder holster, cash, and a driver's license for Vincent Scott," Joe replied. Just then the brothers heard a siren approaching.

"Give me his license," Frank ordered. Joe handed him the plastic card. Frank placed the card upside down on the screen of his PDA and pressed a button. The PDA scanned the license and stored the image in its memory. Frank repeated the process with the other license and then with the two gangsters' fingerprints. "I don't know about you," Frank said, "but I don't really want to be stuck here talking to the local cops. Let's get out of here."

"Sounds good to me," Joe replied as he returned Vincent's license to his wallet and the wallet to his pocket. Frank did the same with Rocco's possessions and then the two Hardys quickly climbed into Joe's GTO and drove away. After driving half of a mile, the brothers passed an ambulance and several police cars heading towards the scene of the accident.

"We didn't get out of there any too soon," Frank commented as they drove back towards the city.

"No kidding," Joe agreed, watching the flashing lights in the rear view mirror. "Now let's get this book back to HQ." Several minutes later, Joe smacked his own forehead. "I completely forgot!" he exclaimed. "I still have to call Magnificent Models!"

"You had better do that now," Frank told him. "We don't want the girls to show up and not have a job, do we?"

"As amusing as that would be," Joe grinned, "I guess that wouldn't help the investigation much." He pulled out his phone and dialed the number for Magnificent Models.

"Magnificent Models. How may I direct your call?" a chipper female voice answered after a moment.

"I would like to speak to Miss Ivers," Joe told the woman.

"May I ask what this is in regards to?" the switchboard operator asked.

"You may tell Miss Ivers that it's concerning a confidential personal matter," Joe replied smoothly.

"Please hold," the woman instructed.

After about thirty seconds, Joe was gritting his teeth. "I hate hold music," he muttered to Frank.

A few seconds later, another woman came on the line. "This is Patricia Ivers," she said. "How may I help you?"

"Miss Ivers," Joe began, "this is Agent Joseph Hardy with the NSA."

"What can I help you with, Agent Hardy?" the woman asked nervously.

"I am running a very sensitive undercover operation," Joe told her. "Mr. Fanelli from Perfect Image will be calling you within the next day or two for three replacement models. You will send him the three young ladies that I am sending over today. Do you understand?"

"I really don't think that's going to happen," Patricia Ivers was becoming angry.

"Now, now," Joe said soothingly, "either you help me out, or the IRS will find out about your, shall we say 'creative,' tax returns for the last five years."

The woman began to sputter, but finally acquiesced. "I'm sure I can arrange something," she finally agreed.

"Wonderful," Joe said cheerfully. "Oh, and Miss Ivers?"

"Yes?"

"If one word of this is leaked, I will personally see that you rot in prison for the rest of your life." Joe hung up.

"Nicely played," Frank complimented. "You even had me scared for a minute there."

Joe blew on his fingernails and wiped them on his shirt. "What can I say?" he replied modestly. "I'm a scary kind of guy."

"That's certainly true," Frank nodded knowingly. "But looks aren't everything."

Joe shot his older brother a dirty look. "I'll get you for that one," he threatened. "Sometime, when you least expect it, I'll get you."

"Yeah, yeah," Frank said flippantly. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Just for that," Joe said with an evil grin, "it's your turn to go babysit Bess. I guess I'll have to check out that address that Bess gave us by myself."

"Fine by me," Frank shrugged. "At least then I'm in no danger of being captured and tortured."

"Well, if I am captured," Joe scowled, "they won't even have to torture me. I'll willingly tell them where you are."

Frank stuck out his tongue at Joe. Joe returned the gesture as Frank began dialing his cell phone. When Agent Luck answered he said, "It's all set, Faith. You guys can head over to Magnificent Models."

"I had hoped that you had changed your mind," Agent Luck replied darkly. "Very well, I'll inform the others."

Thirty minutes later, Joe was locking the diamonds in the safe in his office and Frank was on his way back to his new house to relieve George.

"All quiet?" he asked as he walked in the front door.

"Absolutely," George reported. "I was beginning to have trouble keeping my eyes open it was so boring."

"Well, you can get some shut eye now," Frank told her. "I'm here to take over."

"Sounds good," George yawned. "I think I'm just gonna go crash on Bess' bed. She's been up for a while now."

Further conversation was halted by the sound of very loud crash emanating from the rear of the house. The crash was followed by a scream!


	10. Chapter 10

Frank and George had their guns drawn instantly.

"What was that?" George asked, wide-eyed.

"I don't know," Frank replied as he hurried towards the kitchen.

The two rushed into the kitchen, guns ready. The only person in the kitchen was Bess. She was huddled on top of the island. Shards of what looked like a bowl covered the floor. Milk and cereal were also among the wreckage.

"What happened?" George asked excitedly.

"I saw a mouse!" Bess exclaimed.

"A mouse?" Frank asked, trying to conceal a grin. He replaced his gun in his shoulder holster.

"I see that smirk, Franklin Hardy!" Bess scolded. "And for your information, I hate mice!"

"I gathered that," Frank replied dryly.

"Don't worry," George snickered, "we'll protect you from the big bad mouse."

Bess just scowled as Frank helped her down from the island. "I'll buy some mouse traps," Frank assured her.

George just continued to snicker as she went to find a broom and dustpan.

Joe slowly drove by the address that Bess had given him. Seeing no activity, he parked his GTO a block away and casually strolled up to the front door of the house. He knocked on the door and waited. When nothing happen he glanced up and down the street before leaning over to peek into the window beside the front door. His view was blocked by a heavy curtain. Joe pulled out his lock picking kit and quickly picked the lock on the heavy front door. He returned the kit to his pocket and drew his gun. He eased the front door open while pointing the gun inside the house.

"This is the FBI," he called. "Is anybody home?" When there was no answer, he pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. He quickly checked all of the rooms on the single story of the house to make sure that nobody was hiding from him. Finding the house empty, he returned his gun to its shoulder holster and turned his attention to the house's furnishings.

Joe returned to the front room and looked around. "Bess wasn't kidding," he murmured to himself. "This is torture equipment alright." He examined the various implements, being careful not to touch anything. Once he was finished examining the torture instruments, Joe pulled on a pair of latex gloves and pulled open the drawer of a filing cabinet that was sitting against one of the walls. "They obviously were in a hurry to get out of here," Joe continued to speak to himself. "Otherwise they wouldn't have left all this behind." He pulled out a file folder and set it on the desk that was beside the filing cabinet. He flipped open the folder and looked at the contents.

Within seconds, Joe's stomach had begun to turn. He closed the file and pulled out his cell phone. "We need to get a team over here ASAP," he instructed Agent Luck. "There is a lot of evidence here.

Frank sat in the living room of his nearly empty house looking at furniture on the Internet using the extensive Network computer setup. George slept on Bess' bed and Bess sat on the living room floor reading a fashion magazine.

"I'm bored," Bess announced as she dropped the magazine on the floor beside her. "We need something to do."

"I think that computer there has Solitaire on it," Frank said absently as he examined a living room set.

Bess glared at him. "I don't think that's going to cut it," she replied. "What are you doing over there anyway?"

"Looking at furniture," Frank answered.

"Oooo," Bess said, her voice perking up. "That could be interesting." She got up and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. She grimaced. "You cannot be serious," she said.

"What?" Frank asked.

"I think Nancy might kill you if you bought that," Bess said certainly.

"You don't like the puke green plaid?" he asked innocently.

"Absolutely not," Bess stated. "Move over." She grabbed one of the folding chairs and placed it in front of the keyboard. She quickly navigated through several web pages. "This is more like it," she pointed to the screen.

"That's nice," Frank agreed. He looked at the bottom of the page. "Um, Bess?" he gulped.

"Yeah?"

"Check out the price on that set."

Bess winced. "Moving on," she stated as she navigated away from the hideously expensive living room set. "How about this one?" she said a minute later.

"If I want my living room to look like the set for a porno movie," Frank scoffed.

"Oh?" Bess asked, her eyebrows raised, "and how would you know?"

Frank's face reddened. "Um, I've heard," he said quickly.

"Right," Bess said, "like I believe that. Wanna try again?"

"Okay, fine," Frank said. "Joe and I had a case where we were bodyguards for a porn star."

Bess tried to stifle a laugh. "And why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Because we knew you would react exactly how you're reacting now," Frank retorted. "And that's why we didn't tell anybody." He reached over and navigated away from the offending living room set. Bess was almost beside herself with laughter.

"What's so funny?" George asked as she walked into the room, yawning.

"Frank and Joe," Bess began and then doubled over with laughter. "They…guarded a porn star!"

"No way!" George exclaimed as she began to giggle as well.

"For a case," Frank stressed crossly.

"What case was that?" George snickered. "_The Case of the Missing Clothes_?"

Frank's face darkened even more. "It's not exactly something I like to advertise."

"Does Nancy know about this?" Bess asked innocently.

"No," Frank answered cautiously.

"Oooo," George said wickedly, "this could be more fun than I thought."

"What could be fun?" Joe said as he entered the room. "I'm always up for some fun."

"Not this fun," Frank assured him. At Joe's questioning look he said, "The Murphey case."

A look of horror crossed Joe's face. "You told them about that?" he asked in disbelief.

"Bess kind of forced me," Frank replied with a grimace.

"This is too rich!" Bess hooted. "Wait until we tell the others about this!"

"Don't you dare!" Joe exclaimed. A thoughtful look crossed his face. "What do you think, Frank?" he asked, "protective custody?"

"Um, Joe," Bess said, "I'm already in protective custody."

"Oh no," Joe said evilly, "I'm talking about the kind of protective custody where you are locked in a cell and nobody is allowed to talk to you."

"Just you try, Joseph Hardy," Bess threatened. "You have to have somebody guard the cell and bring us meals. I'm sure they would be more than happy to spread the news."

"This is a diabolical female," Joe informed Frank crossly. "Do you have any ideas since you were the one who let the cat out of the bag?"

"I'm thinking," Frank assured him.

"So what was his name?" Bess cackled.

"_Her_ name was Deanna Murphey," Joe replied. A faraway look came into his eye, "She sure was good looking."

Bess smacked his arm. "You're a married man, Hardy!" she reprimanded him.

"But I wasn't at the time," he pointed out.

"So, Joe," Frank said, quickly changing the subject, "did you find anything at the house?"

"Why yes," Joe replied, "I did."

"What did you find?" Bess wanted to know.

"I'm not going to tell _you_," Joe retorted haughtily.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you all for your positive reviews. Please continue to tell me what you think. Enjoy the next two chapters!**

Bess smacked Joe again. "It's a good thing she has no muscle," Joe said as he shrugged off the blow. "Ouch!" he yelped as George slugged him hard in the arm.

"Speak," she commanded.

"Alright, alright," Joe held up his hands in surrender. "Basically it was like Bess said. There was lots of torture equipment." He paused. "There was also a filing cabinet full of files."

"What was in them?" George prompted.

Joe grimaced. "Let's just say that the owner of the torture equipment was fond of documenting his work," he told them.

"What kind of sicko does that?" Bess shuddered at the thought.

"One who is going to jail for a very long time when we catch him," Joe answered grimly. "I'm having an evidence team go over the house as we speak," he added.

"Good," Frank approved.

"And what have you been up to?" Joe wanted to know.

"Well," Frank replied, turning back to the computer setup, "I ran background checks on our two pursuers." He hit some keys and the two men's files flashed on the screen.

"Anything interesting?" Joe asked after glancing at the screen.

"Nothing that we didn't already suspect," Frank told him. "Rocco Balistreri and Vincent Scott are suspected hit men for the Scinelli crime family."

"What about our buddy Officer Hanson?" Joe wanted to know.

"Nothing popped in his background check," Frank answered, "but I'm having Nancy pull his personnel record."

"What about his bank records?" Joe wanted to know. "Anything suspicious there?"

"I haven't got around to that yet," Frank said. "I'll do that now." He began typing furiously into the computer array. Moments later, long columns of financial transactions began to scroll on the screen.

"That's interesting," Joe said as he pointed to the screen. "He has been receiving regular deposits of $9,980."

"On every Friday," George added as she peaked over Frank's shoulder.

"That's just under the $10,000 limit for reporting to the IRS," Frank observed.

"So he doesn't want anybody to know about that money," Bess concluded.

"He isn't the brightest crayon in the box," Joe said with a sad shake of his head. "What ever happened to criminals that were smart enough to hide their ill gotten gains in off shore bank accounts?"

"Hey," Frank cautioned, "don't complain. I don't mind the bad guys making my job easy."

"So what is our next move?" George wanted to know.

"Well, I'm going to check and see if Codes Division has had any luck cracking Fanelli's little black book," Frank said. "And then I think we'll pick up Officer Hanson and ask him a few questions." Frank picked up his phone and pressed a speed dial number.

"Agent Nelson, Codes Division," a crisp female voice came on the line.

"This is Frank Hardy," he identified himself.

"Good afternoon, sir," Agent Nelson greeted him. "How are you today?"

"Not too bad," Frank answered.

"What can I help you with?"

"I was just wondering if you had made any progress on that notebook I dropped off earlier," Frank said.

"Not yet, sir," Agent Nelson replied apologetically. "In fact, I think it might be a good idea for the specialists in D.C. to take a look at it."

"That bad, huh?"

"I'm afraid so."

"In that case, I want you to hand carry it to D.C. on the Learjet," Frank instructed.

"Yes, sir," Nelson agreed. "I'll leave at once."

"Great." Frank quickly ended the call. "You ready to make Mr. Hanson sweat?" Frank asked his brother.

"Let's do it," Joe said with a grin. The brothers began to walk towards the garage.

"What about me?" George protested.

"Sorry." Frank shrugged. "It's your turn to babysit your cousin." The brothers dashed out the door before anything could be thrown at them.

As the Hardys pulled out of the garage in Frank's Challenger, Frank dialed the captain for Officer Hanson's precinct.

"And what can I do for you today, Agent Hardy?" Captain Morrison asked after Frank had identified himself.

"We need to speak to your Officer Hanson, badge number 58925, about an investigation we're conducting," Frank answered.

"And what investigation would that be?" Morrison wanted to know.

"I cannot reveal those details," Frank said apologetically. "But I can tell you that it pertains to national security. Do you know where I can find Hanson right now?"

"Let me check the schedule," Morrison replied, not sounding too happy with Frank's answer. "It looks like he got off about an hour ago. You can probably find him at home."

"And what is that address?" Frank asked.

The captain read off the address and Frank punched it into his car's GPS system.

"Thank you very much, Captain," Frank said as he ended the call.

"Turn right at the next intersection," the computerized GPS voice instructed.

"Yes, ma'am," Frank replied jokingly as he made the turn.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank drove slowly past Officer Hanson's address. "What do you think?" he asked Joe.

"No way he affords this address on a cop's salary," Joe decided.

"I agree," Frank said. "Well, shall we rattle his cage?"

"Sounds like a plan," Joe answered as Frank parked the car. The brothers climbed out of the sports car and backtracked to Hanson's large house. They strolled up to the front door and Joe pounded on it.

"Who's there?" Hanson yelled.

"Officer Hanson, this is the FBI!" Joe yelled. "Open up!" He pounded on the door some more.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Hanson called back as he unlocked the door. He opened the door. "Don't I know you?" he asked as he squinted at the Hardys. "You're the feds that came by while I was on duty earlier, aren't you?"

"Give the man a gold star," Joe replied sarcastically.

"Officer Hanson, may we come in?" Frank asked.

"What is this about?" the crooked police officer asked nervously.

"We would rather speak to you inside," Frank pressed.

"Do you have a warrant?" the man replied.

"Under the Patriot Act," Joe said with a mean grin, "we do not need a warrant when we have reason to believe that the suspect is involved in terrorism." Joe was not being completely honest. They did not really believe that Hanson was a terrorist, but at the same time they did not need a warrant since they were working for the Network.

"Terrorism?" Hanson squeaked. "I'm not a terrorist!"

"Then you have nothing to hide," Frank said as he pushed past the man. Joe quickly followed him and Hanson was left sputtering in the doorway. He reluctantly closed the door and joined them in the living room.

"What do you want?" he asked again.

"Sit down," Joe ordered.

"But…"

"Sit. Down." Joe's tone of voice left no room for argument. Hanson obeyed.

"Now," Frank began. "Would you like to tell us why two gentlemen with automatic weapons tried to kills us minutes after we saw you last?"

Hanson swallowed nervously. "I don't know what you are talking about," he replied.

Frank leaned down and pushed his nose right in the cop's face. Hanson shrunk back. "Oh?" Frank said. "We'll see." He turned his head and spoke to Joe. "Did you bring the pliers?" he asked.

"Right here," Joe answered, holding up the tool.


	12. Chapter 12

"What are you going to do with those?" Hanson was sweating.

"Well, it's simple," Frank said. "Every time you don't answer a question, or you lie to us, we pull out a fingernail. If we run out of fingernails, we'll start on your toenails. If we still haven't found out what we would like to know, we'll start on your teeth. After that, we'll have to get…creative."

A nasty smell permeated the room as Hanson peed himself. "Okay," he admitted, "when you left, I called Fanelli and told him that you had found something. But I swear I didn't know he was going to kill you!"

"What did you think he was going to do?" Joe scoffed. "Invite us over for coffee?"

"I never really thought about it," Hanson admitted.

"Why did you call him?" Frank asked.

"He pays me a lot for information," Hanson continued his confession.

"$9,980 a week, to be exact," Joe supplied.

The sweat was running in streams down Hanson's face by now. "That's right," he acknowledged.

"And how long have you been working for the Scinelli crime family?" Frank continued his questioning.

"Just over two years," Hanson hung his head.

"What do you know about what happened at Perfect Image a few nights ago?" Joe asked him.

Hanson looked at him blankly. "What are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

"I don't think our buddy was in on that one," Frank decided.

"Lucky for him," Joe muttered.

"Did you get all that?" Frank asked.

"Sure did," Joe replied, holding up a small tape recorder.

"Good," Frank said as he handcuffed Hanson to his chair. "At least we'll be getting one dirty cop off of the street."

Joe placed the recording on the coffee table as Frank called Hanson's captain and told him that he could come and arrest Hanson and where he could find the dirty cop's taped confession. The two brothers left Hanson's house.

"So what do you think?" Joe asked as they climbed into Frank's Challenger.

"I think that was mostly a waste of time," Frank sighed.

"Other than putting a dirty cop behind bars," Joe reminded him.

"Other than that," Frank agreed.

"What's our next move?" Joe wanted to know.

Frank looked at his watch. "Let's head back to the house," he decided. "The girls should be getting off work before too long. Maybe they've found out something."

Twenty minutes later the Hardy brothers were once again parked in Frank's garage. They climbed out of the car and headed inside the house. "Hello?" Frank called as they entered the kitchen. "Anybody home?"

"We're in here!" Bess called from the living room. The brothers walked into the living room.

"What have you two been up to?" Frank asked the cousins.

"Oh, nothing," George said innocently.

Frank's eyes narrowed. "What kind of nothing?" he asked suspiciously.

"Absolutely nothing," Bess said sweetly. "We definitely did not use your credit card to order you all new furniture online."

"What!" Frank squeaked.

"Okay, I lied," Bess said. "We _did_ use your credit card to order all new furniture."

Frank closed his eyes. "Dare I ask how much this is going to cost me?" he groaned.

"Here you go!" Bess said cheerily as she handed him a printout.

Frank cautiously opened one eye as he peeked at the paper. A second later both eyes were wide open. "You spent how much?" he roared in disbelief.

"Don't blow your top," George said. "Nancy gave us permission. Something about your insurance settlement being more than she thought."

Frank closed his eyes again and counted to ten. He let out a slow breath. Joe peaked over his shoulder at the receipt. "Whoa," he said. "That's a lot."

"You are not helping the situation any," Frank warned his brother.

"Don't worry," Bess said. "Do you remember that porno looking set? I think it will go great in here."

Frank's eyes popped open again. "What did you say?" He glared at Bess.

"Just kidding," Bess hastened to assure him. "Everything we ordered was very tasteful. And the best part is, it will be delivered tomorrow!"

"I hope you got free shipping for that much," Frank said.

"But of course," George replied. "What kind of idiots do you take us for?"

Frank opened his mouth. "I wouldn't answer that if I were you," Joe cautioned. "I think it was supposed to be rhetorical."

Frank glared at his brother. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Every second," Joe agreed with a wide grin.

Before the argument could escalate, Nancy walked into the room. "How's it going, guys?" she asked.

Joe winced. "I wouldn't ask that if I were you," he said wryly. "Frank isn't taking the whole furniture thing too well."

"Oh lighten up," Nancy told her husband as she walked over to kiss him. "George and Bess have very good taste when it comes to furniture."

"As opposed to our taste when it comes too…?" George asked jokingly.

"This is going nowhere fast," Joe said, attempting to change the subject. He opened his mouth to say more and it stayed open but no sound came out. A moment later he shut it with a snap. "Wow," he said.

"Wow what?" Frank asked as he turned around to see what Joe was staring at. Standing in the doorway to the living room were Brandi, Sage, and Faith. They were obviously still dressed up from their day working at Perfect Image. Frank studied the girls for a moment. "You guys clean up nice," he approved.

"I'm glad you guys have no intentions of working as models permanently," Bess said. "Otherwise, I'd be out of a job."

The three Network agents blushed. "I think you are exaggerating a little bit," Sage said.

"No," Joe said thoughtfully, "I think she's right." That earned him a slug in the arm from Bess. "Ouch! What? I was agreeing with you!"

"Joe, Joe, Joe," Brandi shook her head as she slung her arm around her little brother's shoulders. "Haven't you learned that you never agree with a woman when she says another woman is hotter than herself?"

"Momentary lapse in judgment," Joe agreed. "It won't happen again." He examined the three girls' apparel. "And what kind of shoot exactly were you guys doing today?" he asked, motioning to their clothes.

Brandi was dressed in black leather pants, black "wife beater" tee shirt, black boots, and a black leather trench coat. Sage wore a pair of black jeans, black boots, a white top, and a black denim jacket. Faith sported blue jeans, black boots, a black tank top, and a black leather jacket.

"I'm guessing some kind of 'bad girl' thing," Frank joked.

"Actually, it was a motorcycle advertisement," Brandi informed them.

"We looked very hot, I might add," Faith put in.

Joe got a thoughtful look on his face. He crossed the room and whispered something in Frank's ear. Frank got a big grin on his face and hurried over to sit down in front of the computer.

"What was that all about?" Sage asked suspiciously.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that it's been a few days since my last post, so here are the next two chapters.**

**And I have not received very many reviews. Post reviews, please. I don't care if they're negative or positive. I just want to know what you think.**

"Nothing much," Frank said innocently as he began to type.

"Franklin Dixon Hardy," Brandi said sternly, "what are you doing?"

Frank ignored her and kept typing. A minute later, pictures of the three girls posing with various motorcycles began scrolling across the screen.

Faith groaned. "He hacked into Perfect Image's database to get today's photos," she realized.

"What are you planning on doing with them?" Brandi asked as he continued to type.

"Absolutely nothing!" Frank protested with feigned innocence as he hit one final key.

A notification popped up on the screen. It read, "Message sent."

"Message sent to whom?" Sage asked suspiciously.

Faith pushed Frank out of the way and started typing. "He sent them to Eric," she said after a moment.

"Oh no," Sage was horrified. "He'll never let me hear the end of this!"

"You are in deep water," Brandi threatened her brother. Joe snickered. She rounded on the youngest Hardy. "Don't think you're off the hook," she said. "You put him up to it."

"Who? Me?" Joe asked, trying not to laugh.

"How are we going to pay them back?" Faith mused.

"I think I can help there," George said with an evil grin.

"Oh?" Brandi asked. "Do tell."

"Would you like to know what we found out earlier?" Bess asked, seeing where her cousin was heading.

"Don't you dare!" Joe said, his face frozen in horror.

"Spill it," Sage ordered.

George and Bess quickly told the rest of the group about Frank and Joe's experience guarding a pornography star.

Nancy shot an interesting look at her husband. "How come I never knew about this?" she wanted to know.

"Ummm," Frank said uncomfortably, "Not many people do know about it. It's not exactly something I try to spread around."

"Soooo," Brandi drawled, "what kind of porn did she do?"

"Enough!" Frank said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Can we just call a truce already?"

"I suppose," Brandi said reluctantly. Just then the doorbell rang.

_Saved by the bell_, Frank thought as he hurried over to open the door.

"Here's your pizza," the delivery guy said, holding up a pile of boxes. Joe stepped up and grabbed the pizza. The delivery boy handed a small clipboard to Frank. "Just sign here the credit card authorization here," he instructed.

Frank took the clipboard and looked at the total at the bottom. He gulped at the high amount, but dutifully added a tip and signed the slip. He handed the clipboard back to the delivery guy and shut the door. "Dare I ask who I have to thank for this one?" he asked dryly as he returned to the living room.

"That'd be me," Nancy said with a grin. "I figured we could use a good meal."

The gathered group sat down to eat their supper. They were just polishing off the last of the pizza when Frank's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he mumbled around a mouth full of pizza.

"I just got your e-mail," Eric Jacobs said, the grin in his voice unmistakable.

"Oh yeah?" Frank said with a smile. "What'd you think?"

"I think these should be kept for posterity," Eric said with a chuckle. "Did they manage to find anything out?"

"I don't know yet," Frank answered. "We just finished eating supper and then we were gonna have a pow wow."

"Alright," Eric said. "Let me know what's going on."

"Will do," Frank assured him and ended the call. "So," he began as he turned back to the girls, "what did you guys find out today? Anything?"

"I found out that we have to do a swimsuit shoot tomorrow," Sage growled.

"Oh really?" Joe said, his eyebrows shooting up.

Before the conversation could take another rabbit trail, Frank said, "I meant anything case related."

"Nope," Faith Luck sighed. "Today was a huge bust."

Joe snickered and Frank gave him a dirty look. "What?" Joe protested.

"There was no pun intended," Faith said threateningly. "It was not that kind of photo shoot."

"I don't think we're getting anywhere," Frank said. "Why don't we all head home and we can hope we find out something more tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me," Sage agreed as she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. She was followed by Brandi and Faith.

Once they were gone, Frank, Joe, and Nancy began to prepare to leave as well. Frank smacked his forehead. "I forgot that we don't have any clothes!" he exclaimed. "We should have gone shopping!"

"Oh, don't worry," Nancy said sweetly. "I took care of everything."

"Meaning?" Frank asked warily.

"Let's just put it this way," his wife said, "the Camaro is riding a lot lower than it normally does."

Joe broke into laughter at the look of horror on his older brother's face. "Better you than me, bro," he said.

"Did you really think you would get off that easily?" Nancy asked her brother-in-law. "Who do you think I took along as my shopping partner?"

It was Frank's turn to laugh at Joe's shocked expression.

"You didn't take Iola to a store?" Joe moaned with a shudder.

"No," Nancy said, "I took her to several stores."

Joe groaned. "I'm doomed," he complained comically. "Ruined. Broke. Bankrupt."

Frank gave Joe a brotherly slap on the back. "Come on," he said, "let's go find out what the damage is. I'll ride back with Nancy and you can take my Challenger. We'll meet you back at your apartment."

"Um, Frank?" Nancy said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"There's not enough room for you in my car," his wife said apologetically.

Frank closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I guess we'll ride back together after all," he said to Joe. He sent a mock glare at his wife as the brothers headed out the door.

"Well," Nancy said to Bess and George once the brothers had left, "I had better get home. I'll be here to take over guard duty first thing in the morning since it's my day off and you have to work, George."

"Okay, sounds good," George said.

Nancy was hugging her friends goodbye when an earsplitting alarm shattered the night air.

Within a split second, Nancy and George both had their guns drawn.

"What's happening?" Bess asked fearfully.

"That's a good question," Nancy said as she looked carefully around. "That's the burglar alarm."

"Does that mean somebody is trying to break in?" Bess wanted to know.

"Probably," Nancy replied.

"What do you suggest?" George asked.

"For now, I think we should sit tight and stay alert," Nancy answered. "A Network strike team is automatically scrambled when that alarm sounds, so the cavalry will arrive soon."

Just then a metal canister flew through the air and landed with a small clink on the living room floor. A moment later, a cloud began to seep out of the canister, enveloping the three young ladies.


	14. Chapter 14

When the Network strike team arrived at the house, they found the back door open and the occupants gone. Mere seconds later, Frank and Joe had joined the team back in the house.

"What happened?" Frank wanted to know.

"We responded to the burglar alarm," the agent in charge answered. "When we got here they were gone."

"This is not good," Joe said soberly.

"How should we proceed, sir?" the agent asked Frank.

"Put out an APB for Detective Nancy Hardy, Bess Marvin, and State Trooper George Fayne," Frank instructed. "Put up roadblocks in a five mile radius."

"Sir," the agent said doubtfully, "that's more manpower than we have."

"Pull everyone and put them on this," Frank ordered. "Also, enlist the Chicago Police Department and the local field offices of every agency in Chicago. If they manage to get the girls out of Chicago, they can disappear. Now get to it!"

"Yes, sir!" the agent replied crisply. He began to issue orders over his radio. Within moments, law enforcement agencies around the city were mobilizing.

"Think it will work?" Joe asked his brother.

"I hope so," Frank replied tensely. "I certainly hope so." He spun on his heel and began to walk briskly toward his car. Joe hurried to keep up.

"Where are we going?" Joe asked.

"We are going out to do our part," Frank answered. He pressed a button on his key chain's remote and the trunk of the Challenger popped open. "They signed their own death warrant." He reached into the trunk and opened the latches on a large metal case. He pulled out a bulletproof vest and strapped it on. "You in?" he asked Joe as he offered his younger brother a matching vest.

"Definitely," Joe replied as he donned the body armor.

Frank pulled out a web belt full of ammunition and various types of grenades and passed it to Joe. He also put on his own. He handed Joe a holster holding a powerful hand gun. Joe strapped the holster to his leg as Frank did the same. Frank also attached an ankle holster containing a smaller gun to his lower leg. He then pulled out two M-4 assault rifles and handed one to his brother. He closed the case and slammed the trunk. "Let's go," he said.

The brothers hopped into the car and the tires squealed as Frank floored the accelerator.

"So what's the plan?" Joe wanted to know.

"First we are going to go have a chat with our two crooked cop buddies," Frank began, "and if that doesn't produce the desired results, we are going to go straight to the top."

"You mean Fanelli?" Joe asked.

"No, I mean Scinelli herself," Frank corrected, his smile grim.

Joe let out a low whistle. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" he said.

"Of course," Frank said. "They crossed the line when they messed with my wife."

Ten minutes later, Frank stopped his car in front of Detective Monroe's house. Frank headed for the front door while Joe headed for the back. Then, they simultaneously kicked in their respective doors and burst into the house, their guns ready. The startled Monroe leapt up from the recliner in the living room. "Sit down," Frank ordered as he pushed the man back down.

A moment later, Joe joined them, pushing Detective James in front of him. "Look who I found on his way out of the bathroom," Joe said with a grin. He pushed the crooked cop down on the couch. The two brothers quickly frisked the two detectives and removed their weapons.

Frank looked thoughtfully from one criminal to the other. "Who do you think, Joe?" he asked.

"I'm thinking James," Joe answered after a moment's thought.

"Really?" Frank replied doubtfully. "I would have thought Monroe.

"What are you talking about?" Monroe demanded.

"We were just wondering which one of you is going to crack first," Frank said with an evil smile.

"We have nothing to say," Detective James said defiantly. He squinted at Joe. "Hey! Aren't you that NSA agent?"

"So it would seem," Joe replied cryptically.

"Enough small talk," Frank said. "Your choices are simple. You can either tell us where your 'colleagues' have taken Nancy Hardy, Bess Marvin, and George Fayne or you can start losing the use of your extremities, starting with your knees."

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about," Monroe said with a smirk.

Frank ground the barrel of his Colt .45 into the man's kneecap. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Monroe gulped but said, "Positive."

Frank shifted the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The gun roared as the bullet skimmed the crooked detective's knee and buried itself in the floor. "I'll ask you one more time," Frank said. "Where are the three young women that your buddies kidnapped tonight?"

The detective's face had taken on a sickly hue. "I don't know!" he answered finally. "They didn't tell us!"

"I don't believe you," Frank said as he shifted the gun back onto the man's kneecap.

"It's true!" James added. "We didn't know they were going to kidnap them. I swear!"

"And what do you call what you were trying to do to Miss Marvin last time we met?" Joe asked skeptically.

"Not kidnap!" Monroe protested. "We were arresting her for murder!"

"A murder which you framed her for," Frank added.

"Not really," James answered. "Fanelli told us that one of his models had been murdered and showed us the evidence that Miss Marvin had done it."

"Evidence that you knew was fake," Joe supplied.

"We suspected as much," Monroe admitted, "but they pay us a lot of money."

"So who actually killed Tammy Jackson?" Frank asked. "Fanelli?"

"We don't know," Monroe replied. "I suspect it was Fanelli, but I don't know for sure."

"And now, one final question," Frank said.

"Yeah?"

"Where is Angelina Scinelli?" Frank said in a threatening voice.

The two detectives' faces took on a deathly shade of white. "I swear we don't know," James insisted. "We only ever dealt with Fanelli."

"That right?" Joe asked Monroe.

The man looked half scared to death. "Yes."

"In that case, where can we find Fanelli?"

"He's probably at home," James replied.

"Which is?"

The men rattled off the address. Frank scribbled it down and then the two brothers handcuffed the crooked policemen to the furniture. Frank once again called the police captain to come arrest his crooked men.

"Fanelli?" Joe asked as they climbed back into Frank's car.

"Fanelli," Frank agreed as he threw the car in gear and stomped on the gas.

Joe felt a shudder go through him as he saw the look in Frank's eyes. He would hate to be Tony Fanelli right now!


	15. Chapter 15

A short time later, Frank stopped the Dodge in front of Fanelli's house.

"Think he's actually here?" Joe wanted to know.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Frank said with a grin as he climbed out of the car. The two brothers hurried up to the front door and Frank pounded on it with his fist.

A few moments later a groggy voice sounded through the door. "Whadaya want?"

"We need to speak to Mr. Fanelli!" Frank called out politely.

"It's two in the morning!" the voice growled. "Mr. Fanelli is asleep."

"Then wake him up," Frank replied coldly.

"You are out of your mind," the man said. "Go away."

Frank looked at Joe and shrugged. "I tried the polite way," he said. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"With pleasure," Joe replied graciously. He stood in front of the door and delivered a vicious kick right above the door knob. With the sounds of protesting metal and wood, the lock gave and the door sprang open. A very large man jumped up from the chair beside the door, his hand reaching for his gun. He was too slow. Frank smashed the butt of his M-4 into the man's chest and he collapsed to the floor. As the gangster struggled for breath, Joe reached down and handcuffed the man's hands to his feet.

"Which way to Fanelli?" Frank asked the man.

"Screw you."

Joe kicked the man in the side. "Try again."

"Upstairs. Door at the end," the crook mumbled.

"We'll find it," Frank said as he stuck a piece of duct tape across the man's mouth.

The brothers hurried up the stairs and down the long hallway. As they reached Fanelli's bedroom, another guard tried to stop them. This time, Joe's M-4 smashed into the man's jaw and he dropped to the floor, unconscious. The Hardys crouched and burst through the bedroom door together. A burst of automatic gunfire ripped through the space where their heads would have been had they been standing up straight. The brothers dove to either side of the door and aimed their assault rifles at Fanelli who was kneeling on his king sized bed. A shot rang out from each M-4 and Fanelli screamed as bullets entered both of his shoulders. His Uzi sub machine gun dropped to the bed as he huddled in agony.

Joe grabbed the Uzi and tossed it into a corner of the room.

"Good evening, Mr. Fanelli," Frank said in an icy voice.

"Who are you?" Fanelli hissed, his teeth clenched against the pain.

"Frank and Joe Hardy, at your service," Joe said with a grin and a slight bow.

Fanelli's eyes widened. "You guys are insane!" he laughed without humor. "Do you have any idea what is going to happen to you now?"

"If I were you," Frank replied coldly, "I'd be more concerned with what is about to happen to you."

"And that is?" Fanelli asked, relaxing as the initial pain from his wounds settled to a dull throb.

"That would depend drastically on how cooperative you are," Frank answered. "If you answer our questions, you only go to jail. If you don't answer our questions, then you will die screaming in that bed."

Fanelli snorted. "You wouldn't dare!" he scoffed. "You would be ruined!"

Frank leaned in so that his nose was almost touching Fanelli's. "You just kidnapped my wife," he said in an even, threatening tone. "Do you really think I give a crap about what happens to me?"

Fanelli shrunk back from Frank's glare. "I can see that you don't," he replied.

"Good. Now that we are on the same page, you can tell me what you have done with my wife and her friends."

"By now your loving wife and her friends are rotting in an unmarked grave," Fanelli sneered.


	16. Chapter 16

"Keep talking," Joe ordered, pulling out his large combat knife.

Fanelli gulped. "We kidnapped the three girls and turned them over to Scinelli," he told them. "When I left, she was trying to get them to call you and lure you into a trap. They were refusing. From what I know of Scinelli, she would just order them killed if they didn't cooperate."

"And where can we find Scinelli?" Frank asked tersely.

Fanelli's face turned ashen. "You can't ask me to betray Scinelli!" he protested. "I'd be signing my own death warrant!"

"Good thing we are not asking you," Joe said without a trace of sympathy, "we are telling you. Spit it out. _Now._"

"Okay, okay," Fanelli gave in. "She was at her estate in the country." He quickly rattled off the address.

Frank scribbled it on his notepad. "Thank you," he said as he stood up. He handcuffed Fanelli to his bed posts and then began to follow Joe out of the room. He paused at the door and turned back to face Fanelli. "You had better hope, for your sake, that they are all alive, otherwise you are nothing more than a dead man walking," he said. He stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him with an ominous thud.

"What's happening?" Frank asked Joe as he joined him in the hall.

"ETA on the clean up team is two minutes," Joe told him. "As soon as they get here, we can go hit Scinelli's place. Do you think we should have reinforcements meet us there?"

Frank thought for a moment and then shook his head in the negative. "A large strike force might put the girls in even more jeopardy. I think the two of us would have a better chance sneaking in by ourselves."

"Sounds good to me," Joe agreed as they heard the sound of car doors slamming outside. The brothers met the clean up team at the front door.

"There are several wounded men inside," Frank told them. "Treat them and then haul their butts to jail."

"Gladly, sir," the team leader replied. The cleanup team entered the house as Frank and Joe hurried to their car.

The Challenger's tires smoked as Frank tore out of Fanelli's driveway. "How far?" Frank asked Joe, who was putting Scinelli's address into the car's GPS system.

"GPS says 30 minutes," Joe replied. "It's 20 miles away."

Frank only grinned and pushed the accelerator down even further. "See if you can find some blueprints and satellite photos of Scinelli's lair," he told Joe. He pressed a button and there was a whir as a computer monitor rose out of the dash. A second later a keyboard and mouse popped out of another hidden compartment in the car's dash.

Joe whistled in appreciation. "Spiffy," he said with approval. He got to work searching for the requested information.

Frank hit another button and a siren began to whine as hidden red and blue lights began to flash. Traffic parted in front of them as Frank sped up even more.

"Do I even want to know how fast we are going?" Joe said without looking up from the screen.

"Nope," Frank replied with a wide grin. A short time later he pulled his sports car to a stop about a block away from Scinelli's house. "Did you say 30 minutes?" Frank asked his brother.

"Yes," Joe answered cautiously.

"I did it in nine," Frank replied.

"You are insane," Joe shook his head as the brothers climbed out of the car.

"Thank you. Anyway, what did you find?" Frank asked. He hit a button on his key chain and the contents of the computer monitor from inside the car were displayed on the hood of the car.

"Whoa," Joe said. "This is amazing! How did Phil do this?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Frank answered. "I just know that I am really glad that I didn't have to pay for it, or I would be in the poor house for the rest of my life. Anyway, we digress, what do you have?"

"Ummm, how do you work this thing?" Joe asked as he stared at the combination car hood and screen.

"It's a touch screen," Frank told him.

Joe shook his head in disbelief as he bent over the hood. He tapped the screen a couple of times and a large aerial picture of a farm dominated the hood. "This is the Scinelli lair," he narrated. "It is made up of a horse barn, a corral, several sheds, and a humongous main house." He zoomed in on each of the features as he talked about them. "Over here," he said as he scrolled across the picture, "is what appears to be a 10 foot tall stone wall that surrounds the whole property."

"That shouldn't be too difficult to climb over," Frank replied.

"It wouldn't be," Joe countered, "except for this." He tapped the hood again and the image of a piece of paper appeared. "This is a work order for a sophisticated alarm system that was installed in the wall. And these," images of two receipts appeared on the screen, "are from a local farm store."

"What are they for?" Frank wanted to know.

"Dog food," Joe told him.

"So what?" Frank shrugged. "Maybe she has a pet poodle."

"'Large Breed Dog Food,'" Joe read off of the receipt. "She bought two fifty pound bags." He used his finger to draw circles around the dates on the receipts. "The purchases were two days apart."

"That does present a problem," Frank agreed. "But thankfully, I'm well prepared." He opened the Challenger's trunk and pulled out a plastic case. He popped open the latches and opened the case to reveal two strange looking pistols. "Tranquilizer guns," he explained. "We can use these to take out the dogs."

"And the wall?" Joe wanted to know.

Frank smiled. "Watch and learn," he answered mysteriously. He pressed a button on his key chain and the hood screen went blank. "Hop in," he said. Joe climbed back into the car and Frank drove until the wall surrounding the Scinelli farm was in view. He put the car in reverse and backed up until his rear bumper was less than a foot away from the wall. The brothers exited the car. "Climb up on the trunk," Frank ordered as he did so himself.

Joe was certain that his older brother had lost his mind, but he followed his lead. Once the brothers were positioned on the sports car's trunk, Frank pushed another button on his remote. The brothers were suddenly launched into the air. They flew over the fence and landed on the other side.

"Oh my," Joe gasped as he tried to catch his breath. "That was something else!"

"You like that?" Frank asked with a grin.

"I think," Joe replied, "that Phil has some more work to do on the GTO."

Frank laughed and pulled out his handgun. He screwed a silencer on the end and then held it in one hand as he held the tranquilizer gun in the other. Joe mirrored his actions as they crept silently through the trees towards the house.

Frank turned to say something to Joe and froze. "Stay very still," he ordered in a low voice. As Joe stopped, Frank aimed his gun right at Joe and pulled the trigger. There was a thud as the tranquilizer dart shot past Joe and into a very large Rottweiler that had been poised to spring on Joe. The dog gave a small whimper and collapsed on the ground.

"That was too close for comfort," Joe said shakily.

Frank was about to reply when a scream pierced the air. "That sounded like Bess!" he exclaimed.

"And I think it came from those trees over there!" Joe added. The brothers began to sprint in that direction. They had only covered about half of the distance when several gunshots rang out. Then there was nothing but silence.


	17. Chapter 17

The two brothers put on a burst of speed. They burst through the trees into a large clearing. The sight that met their eyes astonished them. Joe started to laugh and after a moment, Frank joined him. They holstered their guns.

"And to think we thought they needed saving," Joe said wryly.

Bess was lying on the ground bound hand and foot. Nancy and George stood beside her. Their hands and feet were also bound, but they somehow managed to remain upright. clutched in their bound hands were smoking handguns. Three of Scinelli's men lay dead on the ground.

"All I want to know is where you got the guns," Frank said after a moment.

George snorted. "Well," she began, "these, er, 'gentlemen,' being gangsters, each carry several guns. They never noticed that Nancy and I lifted their extras while they were carrying us out here to execute us."

"Well, what do you say we get you untied and go kick some Scinelli butt?" Joe said as he pulled out his combat knife.

"Sounds like a plan," the girls agreed, holding out their bound wrists. Frank also pulled out his knife and within moments the three women were rubbing the spots where the ropes had rubbed their wrists raw.

As soon as Nancy was free, Frank pulled her into a crushing hug. "I was afraid I was going to lose you," he murmured to her.

"Come on, Hardy," Nancy choked out, "you know I'm tougher than that."

"Ahem," Joe cleared his throat. "Not that this isn't touching, but I believe we have more pressing matters."

"You're right," Frank agreed reluctantly. "Everybody ready?" Nancy and George searched the dead criminals' bodies and reloaded their guns.

"We are now," they answered.

Nancy handed a handgun to Bess. "You stay behind us," she ordered. "You should be safe but just in case you have that gun. Now, let me show you how it works."

Bess held up her hand to stop Nancy. She took the gun from Nancy and ejected the clip. She checked to make sure it was full and then slammed it back into the gun with practiced ease. She racked the slide to chamber a round. "I'm very familiar with the Desert Eagle .357," she said confidently. "I think I'll be fine."

The others stared at her in astonishment. "Who is this girl, and what have you done with Bess?" Joe finally managed.

"What?" Bess shrugged. "I dated a Marine for awhile. Now are we going to kick this chick's butt or what?"

Frank looked at Nancy and they both shrugged. "Let's go," he ordered. The five young people started to cautiously approach the house with their guns ready.

As they approached the front door, Joe's silenced gun coughed twice and a guard that had been bringing his gun to bear dropped to the ground silently. They crept through the unlocked front door and past a wide staircase. Frank's gun spoke this time and another guard dropped. They were startled by a loud roar behind them. They whirled around to see Bess lower her gun from shooting a guard that had come down the stairs behind them. Joe shook his head in amazement again.

"There goes the element of surprise," Frank said. "Spread out and find Scinelli!" The group split up and began to search the house. They met again downstairs, having finished their search.

"She's not here," George complained. "She must have split after she gave the order to execute us."

Suddenly there was a loud roar from outside. The group rushed outside in time to see a bright yellow Ferrari speed out of the large garage and take off down the road.

"That's her!" Nancy yelled as they watched the Mafia boss roar away.

"We won't catch her now," Frank said as he holstered his gun. He pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed. "Put out an APB for Angelina Scinelli," he ordered. "She was last seen driving a bright yellow Ferrari." He ended the call. "I guess we've done everything we can for now," Frank said to the others. "Why don't we head home and get some sleep?"

"Sounds good to me," Joe agreed with a yawn. "It's seven in the morning and we haven't slept at all."

The five young people managed to cram themselves into the Challenger's small cabin area and they drove away from Scinelli's house just as a Network clean up team arrived. Frank waved to the other agents as he smoothly accelerated away.

Half an hour later, the group stumbled into the Network headquarters and collapsed into extra beds in Joe and Iola's apartment. After what seemed like minutes, but was actually hours later, Frank's cell phone rang. He fumbled around until he found his phone. "Hello?" he mumbled.

"We have a problem," Sage said.


	18. Chapter 18

Frank was instantly wide awake. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"We showed up to work at Perfect Image this morning as usual," Sage said in a quiet voice, "but when we got there we were herded into the main room by men with guns. All of the other models were there too. They are questioning us one by one. They think that they have a mole. Apparently somebody raided Scinelli's place last night." Frank winced. "Anyway," Sage continued, "they haven't searched us, so we still have our phones and guns, but I don't want to start something that might get somebody hurt. I told them I need to use the bathroom, so that's where I am now."

Frank's mind raced. "Have you seen Scinelli?" he asked her.

"No," Sage answered, "but she could be in the room where they are questioning us."

Frank heard a pounding in the back ground. "You've been in there long enough!" a masculine voice yelled. "Let's go!"

"We'll take care of it," Frank quickly assured Sage.

"Hurry!" she whispered and the line went dead.

"What's going on?" Nancy mumbled as Frank crawled out of bed and started to get dressed.

"Nothing," Frank whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"K," she murmured and seconds later she was.

Frank finished getting dressed and crept out of the room. He snuck over to Joe's room and knocked lightly on the door.

"Yeah?" Joe asked, sticking his head out the door.

"Trouble," Frank answered. "Get dressed."

Joe ducked back into his room and came out several minutes later fully dressed. "What's going on?" he wanted to know.

"The girls are about to be compromised," Frank told him. "It's time for a raid on Perfect Image."

"Oh really?" Joe said with a grin. "Didn't they say something about a swimsuit photo shoot today?"

Frank smacked his brother on the back of the head. "Get your mind out of the gutter," he ordered. "Let's go." Frank led the way to the headquarters's command center.

"Good morning, sir," the agent operating the center greeted him.

"Good morning," Frank answered. He stepped up to a computer console and typed furiously for a few minutes. He scribbled something on a scrap of paper and handed it to the agent. "I need a satellite view of these coordinates," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," the agent answered as he began to operate the vast array of equipment in front of him.

"And also, I want to see any traffic cameras or security cameras in the area," Frank added.

"Right away," the agent replied. After a minute of work, the agent said, "It will be five minutes before TSSat59 comes up on those coordinates. As for the security cameras, I can only find one. It's in an ATM across the street."

"Put it up on the main screen," Frank told him. The agent obeyed. The camera showed a blurry image of the Perfect Images building and parking lot.

"Is that what I think it is?" Joe asked as he pointed to the screen.

"I can't tell," Frank answered. "Zoom in on the top right corner," he instructed the agent. The agent obeyed. Frank and Joe squinted at the screen. "I still can't tell," Frank said. "Is this as clear as we can get it?" he asked the agent.

"Unfortunately," the agent answered. "It's a very cheap, low resolution camera. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Frank told him. "We should be able to see it when the satellite comes online."

"While we're waiting for that," Joe said, "I'll put the strike team on standby."

"Good idea," Frank agreed. "Also notify the FBI and CPD, but make it clear that we have the lead in this. On second thought, leave the CPD out of it, Scinelli has too many of them on her payroll."

"Got it," Joe agreed as he left to make the calls.

Frank stood silently in thought for several more minutes as the agent worked to bring the satellite online.

"Got it," the agent finally said. He put the footage up on the main screen without being asked just as Joe reentered the room. The brothers examined the footage for a few seconds.

"Zoom in on the back corner of the lot," Joe instructed. The agent obeyed. "That's it," he said a moment later.

"Yes it is," Frank agreed. "The girls are in big trouble."

The two brothers stared at the bright yellow Ferrari parked in the Perfect Image parking lot!


	19. Chapter 19

Meanwhile, at the Perfect Image headquarters, the three female Network agents were beginning to get nervous.

"What's taking them so long?" Brandi wanted to know.

"I only called about twenty minutes ago," Sage whispered back. "Give them some time."

"They had better hurry," Faith put in. "It's almost our turn."

Several minutes later one of the gangsters walked up and pointed at Sage. "It's your turn," he said. "Come on." He yanked her to her feet and pulled her into the other room.

"Sit down," commanded a female voice. Sage obeyed. "How long have you been with Perfect Image, Miss Jackson?" asked the woman sitting behind the table.

"Two days," Sage answered, adding a scared waver to her voice. She recognized the woman behind the desk as Angelina Scinelli.

"How long have you been a model?"

"Ten years."

"And in that time you have worked for the Anderson Agency of New York and the Parisian Modeling Agency in Philadelphia?"

"That's correct."

"I don't believe you," Scinelli said coldly.

"I don't understand," Sage protested. "If you have checked my references, them you know that I am telling the truth."

"I did check your references," Scinelli assured her. "I called every one of them. I still have two problems though. One, your resumé was too perfect. It's like it was tailored for this job. Also, it checked out too perfectly. Normally there are at least small discrepancies."

Sage mentally cursed the Network operatives that had set up her background. "And second?" she asked.

"Number two," Scinelli answered, "I called Magnificent Models. You were hired two days ago with no prior experience with them. I always ask for their best, why would they send someone who was untested?"

"My references are just that impressive, I guess," Sage replied.

"Hmmmm. When I asked to talk Miss Ivers about you, I was told that immediately after sending you over, Miss Ivers went home sick and hasn't been seen since. Suspicious, don't you think?"

"I'll admit it looks pretty bad," Sage agreed, "but I assure you it's all coincidence."

"Oh, I forgot the third thing," Scinelli added, as if as an afterthought, "I just don't like you." She motioned to one of her thugs. "Kill her," she ordered coldly.

The gangster smiled in anticipation and leveled his gun at Sage. As his finger tightened on the trigger, a gunshot rang through the room. His eyes widened in disbelief as his gun slipped through his lifeless fingers and he slumped to the floor. There was a moment of stunned silence in which Sage dove out of her chair, her own smoking gun clutched tightly in her hand. She was not a moment too soon. The chair that she had been sitting in a second before was torn to shreds as the other gunmen in the room opened fire.

"Kill her!" Scinelli screamed as Sage rolled across the floor. Sage snapped off a quick shot in the direction of the Mafia boss' voice as she rolled behind a pile of boxes. A trail of bullet holes followed her across the floor. She crouched behind the boxes for a moment to catch her breath. She quickly ran through the options in her head. She was about to move when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

"I got her!" a voice called out excitedly.

Sage didn't take time to think. She aimed her gun over her shoulder and pulled the trigger. There was a scream as the man slumped to the floor, a bullet in his stomach.

Suddenly the building was filled with the sounds of shouting and gunshots. There were cries of, "FBI! Throw down your weapons!" as Frank's team stormed the building.

Sage breathed a sigh of relief. The cavalry had arrived! Her relief was short lived, however. She felt the hard barrel of a gun pressing into the back of her head. "I guess I have to do something myself if I want it done right," Scinelli sneered as she pulled the trigger.


	20. Chapter 20

"I see Brandi and Faith," Joe told Frank, "but I can't find Sage anywhere."

Frank keyed his radio. "All agents, keep an eye out for Agent Sage Jameson," he instructed. "Once the gunfire dies down, we'll ask Brandi and Faith about her," Frank said to his brother.

Several minutes later the gunfire had dwindled to nothing as the joint team of FBI and Network agents rounded up the members of Scinelli's gang. Frank and Joe hurried over to their sister and Agent Luck.

"Man, we are happy to see you!" Brandi exclaimed as her brothers approached. She gave them both a quick hug. "What's wrong?" she asked as she saw the look in their eyes.

"We can't find Sage anywhere," Frank said grimly.

"She was in the other room being questioned when you guys showed up," Faith told them. The four agents hurried into the other room.

"Any sign of Agent Jameson?" Frank asked the agents searching the room.

"No, sir," they replied.

"What about Angelina Scinelli?" Joe asked on a hunch. Once again the agents replied in the negative.

"Sir, there is a pool of blood over here that doesn't have anybody by it," an agent called out. "There's also a gun in it."

They hurried over to where the agent stood. They looked down and saw a large pool of blood with a handgun lying in the middle. Brandi gasped. "That's her gun!" she exclaimed. "And that's an awful lot of blood."

Joe hugged his sister to comfort her. "There's no body," he assured her. "I doubt Scinelli would take the time to carry the body away if she had killed her."

"He's right," Frank agreed as he crouched down to examine the scene. "Hey, look at this," he said shortly. He pointed to a trail of bloody footprints leading away from area behind the boxes. He stood up and followed the trail across the room. The trail entered a closed closet. He pulled out his gun and threw the closet door open. He lowered the gun, mystified. The closet was completely empty. Not even a shelf was present in the bare space. The trail of footprints had completely disappeared as well.

"Where did they go?" Brandi asked in wonder.

"Beats me," Frank shrugged.

"I have an idea," Joe said suddenly. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "I need a location on Agent Jameson's cell phone," he said. He was silent for a minute. "You're sure?" he asked. "Okay, thanks." He hung up the phone. "They say it's ten feet in front of us."

"The closet is only six feet deep," Frank mused.

Agent Luck pulled out her cell phone and dialed. A moment later they heard the opening music from Hawaii 5-0 playing from beyond the back wall of the closet.

"That's Sage's ring tone," Joe observed with a grin.

"There must be some kind of false wall here," Frank observed unnecessarily. He walked into the closet and knocked lightly on the wall. "Sounds solid," he commented. He keyed his radio mike again. "We need some sledge hammers in here," he ordered. Moments later, two burly agents rushed into the office carrying large sledge hammers. Frank motioned to the closet's back wall. The two agents attacked it with the hammers. Frank, Joe, Brandi, and Faith stood by with their guns ready in case Scinelli was waiting for them.

Within minutes the agents' hammers broke through to the other side. They quickly widened the hole to make it big enough to crawl through. Frank crawled through with his gun in one hand and a flash light in the other. After a few seconds, he holstered his gun. "It's empty," he told the others as he crawled the rest of the way through. The others joined him.

"Looks like a tunnel," Joe commented as he looked around the area. He bent down. "Here's Sage's phone," he said, holding up the device. "She must have tried to leave a trail."

"And here is our trail of footprints," Frank pointed with his flashlight. The group cautiously began to follow the bloody trail down the tunnel.

"It's beginning to thin out," Joe commented after a minute.

"Just follow the trail of blood drops instead," Frank instructed, pointing. "One of them is still bleeding." The agents kept moving. They reached a set of stairs leading up. They hurried up the stairs to find a door at the top. The agents drew their guns as Frank cautiously approached the door. After listening at the door for a moment, Frank threw the door open and jumped through. The other agents quickly followed.

The Network agents found themselves in the parking lot behind Perfect Image. They were right beside Scinelli's yellow Ferrari. Frank quickly looked in the car.

"She's not here," he announced as he looked carefully around at the surrounding area.

"Where did she go?" Joe asked, mystified.

"I have no idea," Frank replied. "I mean, she couldn't exactly walk down the street leading a bleeding model."

"Which means they had to have transportation," Joe mused.

"You guys are so slow," Brandi moaned in exasperation. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "I need a location on Agent Jameson's car," she instructed the Network agent manning the command center at the headquarters.

Joe smacked his forehead. "I feel like an idiot!" he groaned. "Of course they took Sage's car."

Brandi ended the call. "They are two miles away, heading south."

"Let's go," Frank ordered. The three Hardys sprinted to their separate cars. As they roared away from Perfect Image, Frank pressed a button on his steering wheel. "Are you both there?" he asked.

"Yes," his two siblings replied over the between car intercom.

"Alright," Frank said, "here's the plan. Brandi you get in front of her and set up a sniper post. Joe you get in front of her and stop her. I'll chase behind her. Any questions?"

"Negatory," Joe answered as he floored the accelerator on his GTO. The car pulled away from his siblings' cars.

"Nope," Brandi said as she punched the gas pedal on her brand new Shelby Cobra. The engine roared as she quickly caught up to Joe. Within moments the two cars were lost to Frank's view.

Frank also sped up in his Challenger. A screen on his dash showed the location of Sage's car as he closed in on its position. The car was only going the speed limit, probably to keep a low profile. Frank came up behind Sage's Ford Crown Victoria and slowed to avoid detection. Frank followed the Ford for a few minutes before Joe and Brandi informed him that they were in position. "Alright," Frank said, "here we go." He flipped on his siren and flashing lights as he pulled up with behind the Ford. He saw Angelina Scinelli twist around in her seat to look in horror at him. She jabbed Sage with her gun and yelled at her.

Suddenly, the Ford accelerated away from Frank. Frank grinned. This was exactly what he had planned on. The Ford wove recklessly through the Chicago traffic with Frank close behind. Suddenly, the Ford spun sideways and screeched to a stop mere inches away from where Joe's GTO was parked sideways across the street. There was silence for two breathless seconds and then a shot echoed down the street!


	21. Chapter 21

Angelina Scinelli slumped over in the passenger seat of Sage's Crown Victoria. There was a hole in the side window where the bullet from Brandi's sniper rifle had entered the car. The sound of the shot had just begun to die down when the driver's door flew open and Sage dove out of the car. Joe and Frank rushed at the car with their guns drawn. Frank rushed to Sage's side as Joe approached the passenger door.

Joe flung the door open and pointed his gun at Scinelli's motionless body. Her chest was covered in blood from Brandi's bullet. Joe touched her neck and then quickly holstered his gun and pulled out his cell phone. "She's still alive!" he yelled as he dialed. He snapped an order into the phone and then shoved it back in his pocket as he pulled the mafia boss' body out of the car. He pressed the palm of his hand against the entry wound on the left side of her chest as he pulled off his shirt. He placed a library card over the hole in her chest and then wrapped his shirt tightly around her chest. He checked for an exit wound and found none. The bullet must still be in her he assumed. He felt for her pulse again. It was gone. He quickly started CPR. He could hear the sirens approaching from a distance. He kept performing CPR until a paramedic shoved him out of the way and took over. Joe stood back and watched as the paramedic worked on Scinelli. After a few moments he hurried over to check on Sage. He found another paramedic bandaging a bullet wound in her shoulder. "How did that happen?" he asked.

Sage winced. "She managed to sneak up behind me. I think she was going to kill me at first but then she figured a hostage would be more useful so she just wounded me so that I couldn't fight her."

Joe nodded. "I wondered why you didn't take her out yourself," he teased. "But that explains it.

Just then Brandi came running up, the sniper rifle slung over her back. "Is everybody okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Alright here," Sage assured her.

"I have a question," Joe smirked.

Brandi raised her eyebrows.

"What kind of wimpy rifle are you using that didn't even go all way through Scinelli?" Joe scoffed.

Brandi glared at her brother before looking a little mystified. She shrugged and handed the rifle to Joe.

It was his turn to look mystified. "This is a Barrett .50 caliber rifle," he said, puzzled. "This should have easily punched through her."

"With armor piercing rounds no less," Brandi added.

"So why didn't it?" Joe wanted to know.

"I can answer that," Sage spoke up. "My car has some pretty heavy duty bullet proof windows. I wouldn't have been surprised if the bullet hadn't penetrated at all."

Brandi gulped. "Well, I'm sure glad it did, otherwise you might not be here right now."

Sage shuddered. "I prefer not to think of that," she said.

The paramedic had just finished bandaging Sage's bullet wound. "We need to get you to hospital to get this properly patched up," he said. He helped her to her feet and led her to one of the two ambulances.

"We'll meet you there!" Frank called as she climbed into the ambulance. The ambulance pulled away. A few moments later, the other ambulance, carrying Scinelli, also raced away, its sirens blaring.

Six Months Later:

"Who are your contacts in Italy?" Frank asked for what seemed the hundredth time.

"For the last time, I'm not telling."

"You do realize that you are this close from disappearing into a secret prison somewhere and never being heard from again, don't you?" Frank growled at the woman sitting across the table from him in the brightly lit interrogation room.

Angelina Scinelli laughed at him. "I still won't tell you. The things I know are the only thing keeping me out of that dark hole."

Frank grinned wickedly. "That was true, until two hours ago," he told the imprisoned mafia boss.

Scinelli gave him a mildly curious glance and then began to study her fingernails.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick three-ring binder. He slapped it on the table and slid it across to Scinelli.

She put on a bored expression as she opened the binder. She glanced at the first page, did a double take, and began to rapidly read the contents. Her face turned ashen as she read. After several pages, she closed the binder and slid it back to Frank. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Absolutely nothing," Frank replied as he shoved the binder back into his briefcase. "I was only giving you one last chance to help yourself." He stood up and began to walk away. "Enjoy life in prison." He walked out of the room. The door shut behind him with an ominous thud.

"What's in the binder?" Joe, who had been waiting outside the door, asked curiously.

"Remember that coded book we found in Tammy Jackson's apartment?" Frank asked in return.

"Yeah," Joe replied curiously.

"The codes division in DC took their time, but they finally came through for us," Frank told him. "The translation of that book was hand delivered two hours ago."

"It took them six months?" Joe asked in disbelief.

"Apparently there was quite a backlog there," Frank replied. "And it was a very complex code."

"So what was in it?"

"This book contains all of Scinelli's contacts, employees, and bank accounts. Basically everything there is to know about the Scinelli crime family can be found in this book," Frank answered.

"I take it we are going to round them all up?" Joe asked with an eager grin.

"You guessed it," Frank agreed.

"I know exactly where to start," Joe said with a grim smile.

"Oh?"

"Remember that lovely house of horrors that Fanelli sent Bess to?" Joe asked. At Frank's nod, he said, "I say we start with the guys who ran that."

"Sounds perfect," Frank said.

The look that came over Joe's face sent shivers down Frank's spine. He would hate to be those mafia torturers when Joe caught up with them!

THE END


End file.
